Starlight II : Adhara's Fate
by Shadowhawke
Summary: Sequel to Starlight I: Sheratan's Call. AU from around halfway through Season 5. New Big Bads encroach upon Sunnydale... or were they always there? Eventual Spuffy! Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

Starlight II: Adhara's Fate Chapter I: Sign

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for Mia, Bryan, Daniel, and Cassandra, and some of the mythology, like that of the Icari and the Silent Death.**

**Rating: PG 13. I promise. At least I'm not planning anything above it. There might be some harsh language, a bit of violence, and a few 'references', but nothing above kissing is going to be described without warning.**

(A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back again, with the sequel to Sheratan's call; Adhara's Fate. I hope that those of you who have read Sheratan's call enjoyed it. I certainly learnt a lot about writing, writing it : ). For those of you who haven't read it, I'd suggest reading it before reading this fic, because there's a lot in here that you won't understand otherwise. I know it's a hard read, especially at first, but it does get better :P. I think. I hope. prays Well, I'd better stop meandering off the topic and let you read. I'll be updating once, maybe twice a week normally this time, just to warn you. Reviews are also much appreciated, please! As readers of my last fic know, I have this awful habit of becoming blocked if I don't get much feedback, so reviewing would be good. Only takes half a minute or so. : ). 

**So, without further ado, onto the next installation of Starlight.)**

8 8 8

_Long, long before the orb known as Earth came into existence, and even longer before the plague of the Icari and the Silent death, the dimensions were not separate. They changed, falling into each other like rivers and waterfalls. Time created warps within warps and circles within circles. Chaos grew, and out of chaos came life._

_Of the life that came, the Powers, they found that the existence, the universe would shatter were it to continue in the melding. The dimensions had been created as half-merged, and since then had only continued merging. On the day that they became one, the paradox would undo itself. _

_But the Powers were not the only ones yet alive. There were two far more ancient entities. A brother and a sister, birthed out of Chaos three million years after the dimensions had come to be. He was older by thirteen eons, the foundation of the planes. But she, she was the shaper. _

_The two appeared to the Powers and the elder revealed to them all that there had been, all that there was, and all of what could come. As the Powers were reeling, the two joined one last time, before he separated._

_When the Powers woke, there was one. And she was crying. With their new knowledge, they knew what must be done to combat the Icari which would rise when the human race began._

_And the Silent Death that had already begun to live…_

8 8 8

"I can't believe you're doing this! Again!"

Daniel scowled. "Excuse me, Miss. Impulsive, I'm just trying to make sure we don't go off the deep end with this one."

Dawn glared back at him. "It's a book, Daniel. A book isn't going to get us…"

"A detention?" Miss. Maldrow asked inquiringly. "No, not as of yet. But it will, very soon if you two keep the level of attention you are at present."

They swallowed.

The fight still hadn't been resolved at lunchtime. Dawn and Daniel refused to look at each other. Cassandra sat rather uncomfortably in the middle.

"So… uh… what do you lot have next period?"

"Geography," Daniel said gruffly.

"With sweet Melissa?" Dawn asked cloyingly.

"You two…" Cassandra shook her head.

"Well what do you have?" Daniel grinned, but it was still angry. "Literature with Kevin, eh?"

"These have got to be the lowest shots…"

Funnily enough, it was Kirsty who coalesced them together again. She brushed past, head high in the air and her newest expensive toy adorned on her body.

"Queen Bitch at four 'o clock!" Daniel muttered.

"Oh leave it be," Dawn returned disgustedly as she nestled happily into the bench, swinging her aching feet. "I don't want to know where she is every time she comes within fifty meters of us."

He growled, but the effect was lost as his voice climbed two octaves in a second before leaping back down again.

The girls collapsed into laughter. He glared and retreated to nurse his wounded pride. And all of this happened in three seconds.

The next second, it was all fine again.

"You know, Dan, you can stop doing that now," Cass said earnestly. "I'd have forgotten what she said by now if you didn't keep mentioning her."

He scowled. "Stop trying to make me feel better. I know you're lying."

She didn't redden like she would have six months ago. Ah… six months on the Hellmouth. Enough… more than enough to rid her of blushing when she was caught out by Daniel. Seeing Buffy return after patrols on movie nights, either covered in vampire dust or demon substances of indescribable nature. Watching Spike scull down blood on the rare occasion he'd fed in front of them, and that had only been because they'd come at an inopportune moment. The choking that resulted would have been amusing, if he hadn't coughed up red-colored specks.

The blurry day they'd first arrived, thrust directly against a rampaging demon while the people she'd watched on a television screen lived and breathed amongst her.

Cassandra luxuriated in memories. The good and the bad. The movie nights with Daniel and Dawn, the reality of Buffy, her idol. And Spike, of course. Her other idol. And Joyce, and Willow and Tara, Xander and Anya, Giles. Everyone and everything.

There were some thoughts, some memories she didn't like dwelling on, however.

Today, the worst rose in the back of her mind, even as the bell rang to summon them in again for an hour of History. And even the bell's insistent ringing could not help her push it down.

_Imyas druandu elfath nachk,_

_Obnor fyar telltes glachk…_

The knife.

_Extrin, instrin, telth undros,_

The knife…

_Psychel, Setrel, tilth undlos!_

Suddenly, Cassandra Evans couldn't stop screaming.

The sun beat down up ahead as somebody ran over the sign that said "Welcome to Sunnydale."

8 8 8

"Giles!"

The Watcher started as two frenetic witches burst through the doors of the Magic Box, sending the bell ringing alarmingly loudly and Anya rolling her eyes as she served another customer.

"Good lord! Willow, Tara, what's wrong?"

"This!" Willow burst out. "I… I came across it accidentally but…"

Giles scanned the first few lines of the text and then his eyes widened. He turned to Anya.

"Get Xander and Buffy here. Now."

As she moved to dial, he wrinkled his nose slightly.

"And Spike," he added.

Ten minutes later, they were all assembled around the Magic Box. All of them, that is, except for the vampire. It would have taken longer, were it not for the fact that Buffy's now not-so-new mobile phone had taken her to the repair shop not too far away from the Magic Box and had conveniently decided to work upon Anya's call.

Which was fairly incredible, considering the amount of times it had ended half-crushed against tombstones and crypt walls.

"Where is he?" Buffy grumbled as she snatched a dazed fly out of the air and threw it out of the window before wiping her hands. "He doesn't usually take this long."

Giles wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and pushed his glasses back up to rest on his nose again instead of dangling precariously into outer space. "The sun is rather intense today, he might be having some problems getting here."

"Why do we have to wait for Spike anyway?" Anya asked. "I mean, every second that this shop is closed means possible wasting of possible money."

"Yeah," Xander chipped in. "Why does the bleached wonder have to be here?"

Before Giles could reply, Spike strolled casually in from the basement, his leather duster swirling dramatically behind him.

Buffy couldn't help bite back a grin through her annoyance.

"Yeah," he echoed, in a perfect mimicry of Xander. "Why do I have to be here, Watcher? That bloody cell you gave me woke me up."

"That's what it's supposed to do, Captain Peroxide."

"Before you two keep wrangling," a touch of irritation coloured Giles' voice. "Willow and Tara have actually found some information that suggests the apocalypse is might be literally knocking on our door soon."

That shut them up.

"Literally?" Anya frowned after the second of silence. "Why would knocking on our door cause the apocalypse?"

"Well, I g-guess if you t-think of the Hellmouth as a door…" Tara left it hanging.

A chair scraped as Spike seated himself around the table and then looked inquiringly at all of them. The Whelp's hands were massaging his forehead. Giles leaned against the wall somehow supporting a thick, heavy tome with one hand. _Nice wrist strength, Watcher. _The two birds held hands under the table, but not in a couple-y way so much as support-y through finding out of another apocalypse-y way.

Dear gods, he was talking like them already.

Demon girl stood matter-of-factly behind the counter as she appraised Tara's words. And the Slayer…

The Slayer was standing up and striding out of the door.

"Hey! Buff, where you going?"

"To check out the Hellmouth," she replied. "I gotta go now and check it out because I need to pick up Dawn and the others soon."

"I don't think you should be so hasty, Buffy," Giles put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "We haven't even told you what's happening yet."

"Well…" she pretended to muse thoughtfully. Then her eyes lit up. "I know there are knocking things. And knocking things can usually be knocked," she finished brightly.

Spike winced. "Overdoin' it a bit, pet."

"Overdoing? What's this overdoing you speak of?" she turned to him, eyes wide.

Xander rolled his eyes. It had started about a month ago, the gradual change from heated insults to just snarking. He'd had time to get used to it. Really he had.

Alexander Harris liked things to stay as they were. Good things, that was. Like Willow and Buffy and him, with Giles hovering over them. Saving the world, kicking demon butt, and somehow, miraculously pulling through all of the apocalypses with not one D&D game shaken from the cupboard. Changes like the Magic Box had given them a good base. Changes like coming out of High School had been survived. But the change that had hit him hardest of all was the change of his world after the enjoinment spell.

When everything was black and white, things were simple. But discovering things about himself, his friends… the vampire. That had changed everything, and for around two weeks he hadn't been sure he'd liked it. He'd even been brooding. A horrible sign.

Anya, however, had finally broken through all of it with her blunt honesty.

"What's your point, honey?"

"What do you mean what's my point?" he'd waved his arms around. "Should I go around seeing every vampire I stake as a nice guy when he was a human? What if he had parents? Or kids? Or siblings? Or really good friends? Or…"

"So?" Anya had returned.

"So am I supposed to go through this moral dilemma every time I want to help Buffy stop the apocalypse?"

She'd pursed her lips and snuggled closer, wishing sometimes that she didn't feel so confused in this human world. The answer seemed glaringly obvious to her. Why had he been so worked up he'd been distracted even in sex for the past two weeks?

"No of course you're not," she'd said patiently. "You're just supposed to figure you can't just divide things into all-good and all-evil. I haven't been a vengeance demon for over 1,000 years to not know that."

"But it's not that simple!" he'd cried out.

"Yes it is," she'd shrugged. "And generally, if they're trying to bring about the apocalypse, you can kill them. I kinda want to stay in this world and live as long as I can now that I am mortal."

So the rule of demons-bad-humans-good had turned into demons-trying-to-cause-apocalypse-or-attack-friends-or-innocents-or-doing-bad-things-bad and everyone-else-innocent-until-proven-guilty.

Unfortunately, since Spike wasn't trying to cause the apocalypse at the moment or attack friends or innocents or even doing bad things, that put him in the non-evil zone. It was one of the things that Xander had taken another month or so to adjust to. He sometimes wasn't sure if he still had. Naturally hating the bleach-blonde was a problem.

He drifted back to the present when the scent of musty pages overwhelmed his nasal passages.

"This," Giles panted with the exertion of dragging it from the shelves. "Is it."

8 8 8

I wish you knew how I felt. How I feel. I used to be normal, like you. Oh, nobody's normal?

Well, as normal as one can be, going to Junior High in Sunnydale. From tapping into her thought-streams and watching what happens before _my_ eyes, I know now that Sunnydale is the Hellmouth.

The Hellmouth that is waking again. Has been waking since…

That day, when the paroxysms seized me, and my world shook along with body.

The only difference was, my body didn't break.

My world shattered.

Everything I remember going wrong in my life can be traced to then. Back to when they started appearing and talking to me, talking to me as if I knew them. With their horrible faces and their cold skin and… and…

No more… no more…

I can't take it any more!

C-can't watch her do t-those t-t-things with m-m-my…

Stillness.

They no longer talk to me, now. No longer come, because I'm keeping them away. I don't want to hear what they say. Even here, here is better. Here gives me the strength to block them out, to concentrate on regaining control.

I float in a world that is quiet, harmless. I'm warm, safe. Or at least, that's how I'm supposed to feel. I've been here for so long I'm getting past those illusions now. It could be because she does not have total control yet. That would make sense. Somewhere in the remnants of _my_ mind, I know it makes sense. Entrapped within myself, I beat at the gentle wisps of shadow that form the wall meant to soothe and comfort me. The cage that I cannot break as I see in another part of my consciousness what's happening through _my_ eyes. Eyes that she stole. Body that she stole. Life and future that she stole.

She thinks that I no longer exist.

The times when I manage to break through the web and drown in my control she does not remember. It is good that she doesn't. I am afraid of what she would do if she remembered. If she knew I was still alive. If she knew that I was looking for the person who is supposed to deal with this.

She also does not know that sometimes, if I bruise my non-corporeal hands enough beating against the wall, the nonexistent blood running from my non-existent body will somehow link into her thought-streams. And I know what she is arrogantly unafraid of.

So that is why, when I take control…

I search for the Slayer.

8 8 8


	2. The next step

Chapter 2: The next step (A/N: Oops . ;;. Didn't actually mean to take this long with the next update. Apologies. I've been working on a few of my BGII fics that you can find in the forum Scribbles on the Wall at Spellhold Studios/shameless self promotion. Thanks to Kim, for your review. : ). I hope you enjoy the sequel as much, or more than the first one. To all of you, further reviews are also much appreciated, please! As readers of my last fic know, I have this awful habit of becoming blocked if I don't get much feedback, so reviewing would be good. Only takes half a minute or so. : ). 

**So, without further ado, onto the next chapter.)**

8 8 8

_Knock, knock,_

_Who's there?_

8 8 8

"I don't know what happened," fear shone in her eyes. "One second we were laughing and talking and the next second she's…"

Giles frowned as he let one eyelid fall, covering the glazed, shocked expression that had unsettled all of them. Even Spike was looking disturbed. Again, he looked to Buffy.

"Why didn't you take her to the hospital?" he demanded.

She tightened her jaw slightly. "Because it's clearly mystical, and you're the guy for that."

"And also maybe because you don't like hospitals?" Anya added. Helpfully. Or so she thought.

"This was extremely irresponsible of you," tweed rustled as he stood. "We need to get her to the hospital immediately. Honestly, Buffy, why did you come running to _me_ when there was…?"

"Cut it out, Watcher!" Spike growled. "This isn't gonna help Platelet!"

"I don't need your opinion Spike!" Giles flared back, worry getting the better of both of them.

Anya looked on, feeling suddenly, strangely detached from this bunch of angry, worried humans and one demon. That had always been a thing with vampires, she noted clinically. Always driven by their baser instincts. Spike? He was something more. He _was_ emotion. Blood. She would know, she has been a Vengeance demon, after all. Any strong emotion she used to be able to instantly feel, her senses fine-tuned to anguish. It didn't mean she couldn't feel everything else, though.

Now, it was not so strong. But that didn't mean she could still feel it.

A part of her awakened. It wanted to join the throng around the fallen girl. Join Tara worriedly counting her heartbeat, join Willow holding her hand. Join Xander joining in. But she felt out of it. How could she feel excluded when even a vampire was taking part?

The confusion rose in her as she looked at the pale skin made even more ghostly with the black hair that framed it and the empty face.

Was it really only six months ago the two had first stumbled so chaotically into their lives? She looked towards Daniel. The fear was painted wooden over his face.

How could 'Xander's uncle's illegitimate child' and 'Willow's random cousin with black hair' come to have meant so much to them? It wasn't as if they'd spent overly that much time together.

It was then that Anya took her first step towards realizing lines between what came almost naturally for humans and what demons had to struggle for.

It was the little moments. The little things people said and did. It was the laughter, pure and heady as they wrestled. It was the snarking and the smiles. The shyness and the stutters. It was a broken angel, mending her wings with a single concerned touch. All that and more.

There were no ordinary moments with humans. Everything took on a special, harsh, light. There was more, of course. There had been the fights that she'd seen and Daniel looking sullen for weeks. There had been Dawn screeching and Cassandra weeping, and somehow the Scoobies had been pulled in. Not enough to participate, to take part in this world of theirs. But enough to feel, for a moment, the intensity of innocence broken away by a startling maturity.

It was feelings. It was the humanity. That was why they mattered.

And suddenly, finally, she realized why Xander was always so willing to risk life and limb to help Buffy. She finally realized why his relationship with Willow. She finally realized why she was a little in love with these strange, these peculiar, these crazy humans.

And with that, she was one of them. The blossoming realization earned the radiant smile that Xander loved but never saw enough. She turned to open her mouth, declare anything when the words broke through again.

"Giles… I don't think it will help if we take her to the hospital."

The Watcher agitatedly pushed his glasses back. "And why not?"

Tara gestured towards the girl. "I t-think she's waking up."

As they crowded around, Anya slipped over to Xander, the smile still on her face.

"Xander, I think I've just…"

He shook his head. "Anya, not now," came instinctively out of his mouth, but when he turned he caught the remnants of the smile that was now fading away.

"But…"

He kissed her forehead. "You're beautiful, Ahn," he grinned, before quickly moving to help Spike carry Cassandra over to a chair.

She was left behind, an odd look on her face. Maybe there was still a lot to learn. But now at least she had hope and understanding.

8 8 8

Ba-dump 

_Ba-dump_

"Who's there?" she screamed. 

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

"_Answer me!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

"_Where are you… you… you…?" echoes rebounded back, multiplying and descending down again to nothingness._

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

"_This isn't funny, you know!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

"_S… show yourself!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

_She quavered. Felt wetness coat her fingers as she grasped at a wall. She screamed._

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

_The reflex action hurled her away, stumbling and falling as she ran from the fountain of blood. The sickly sweet smell hung over her. She couldn't run from that._

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

_She curled into herself. The vibrating pain through her skin and her muscle and bone and her head and her heart clenched and she screamed again._

"_S-stop it!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

_She hugged her knees tighter, bent double under the agony._

"_S-stop! I d-don't think I c-can take too m-much more!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

_She rocked, back and forth, shaking her head from side to side as tears leaked out._

_Ba-dump_

_Ba-dump_

"_Stop!" she shrieked. "PLEASE!"_

_Ba-dump_

_Ba…_

_Silence. The pain was gone. Sobbing in relief she crawled upwards. Her surroundings were no longer black and red. Her voice no longer echoed. She sucked in a heavy breath. The roundness of it filled her._

_She tripped, and clawed upwards again, her black hair falling deep into her eyes as she shook her head to clear her vision. A maze now spiraled before her. Hesitantly, she took a step. And then another. Robotic, she lurched forwards, the fear turning her body into lead._

"_H-hello?"_

_One corner. Three corners. Leftrightleftrightleftrightleftright. She wove in and out, now. No longer in control. Her feet carrying her deep into the center._

_Leftrightleftrightleftrightleftright._

"_Is anyone h-here?"_

_Leftrightleftrightleftrightleftright._

"_Yes."_

_She leapt back, startled and afraid. Her mirror image stared back at her, smiling gently._

8 8 8

"Cass!"

Dawn hugged her tightly as the girl's eyes slowly blinked open. There was a collective sigh of relief.

Cassandra winced as the aches came crashing down on her. She opened her mouth. Her maltreated throat croaked.

"Owwww…"

"Hey, Dawnie," Xander gently pulled her back. "Give her some room, hey?"

Dawn allowed herself to be disentangled from her friend reluctantly. Daniel didn't allow anything. He shook her shoulders gently.

"Cass! Cass! Are you alright?"

"Hey now, Junior," Spike was the one who intervened this time. "Look at her. Give her a couple o' seconds to catch her breath."

Willow looked from Xander to Spike and then back to Xander. And then back to Spike.

She and Tara shared a look. A smile blossomed over both of their faces.

She coughed. Hacked. Then she sat bolt upright and looked around before collapsing back down again.

"Whoah, take it easy Platelet…"

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Magic Box, Cassandra," Giles knelt before her, checking her temperature and pulse. "Good grief, you're as cold as death!"

Buffy winced. "Did you have to use that analogy?" she half-joked.

Anya studied her. "You still look a lot better than you did before," she voiced her opinion. "You looked like a week-old corpse. And I've seen a lot of them in my time. Not pretty."

Cassandra coughed again. "Thanks… I guess?"

"Now, we really need to get to business," Giles stood up. "What happened? Are you feeling better now?"

"Are you hurt?" Daniel interrupted. "Is everything okay?"

"Are you alright?" Dawn demanded simultaneously. "You just collapsed and…"

"I'm fine," Cassandra overruled them weakly. "Just… uh… I'm having a slight pain around here," she gestured to her throat.

The milky-white skin had been hidden before by her turtleneck, but now as she pulled it down, they all gasped. Except for Spike. He just sucked in unneeded breath.

A red mark stood out lividly from the pale surrounding skin. It was sunk deep, as if someone had branded it there. But it was the shape that shocked them the most.

"T-t-that's the s-sign out of t-the book you s-showed us!" Tara stuttered out, this time more out of shock than anything.

A silence.

"Research time," Giles said tersely.

Anya looked surveyed the scene.

"I'll get donuts with Xander," she grinned happily.

8 8 8

_It's been a while._

_Yeah, I know that you know that, you prat. It's just one of those conversation things, right? _

_What? You think 'm tryin' to be civilized, now?_

_Are you off your soddin' hat?_

_Oh, what, she's telling you to tell me to stop bein' in denial, is it?_

_Denial is nice. It's safe. And who said anything about denial?_

_What rubbish are you on about? How the hell can you be in denial about bein' in denial?_

_What are you, a bloody shrink?_

_Ah, nevermind. Let's just not talk about this, eh? _

_Oi, you stop looking so gloomy. You don't have the bloody right when I'm so miserable myself._

_Uh… you were supposed to glare and then laugh. Not just glare._

_Well, to get off the topic then…_

_Why do you always wanna talk about this? Can't I just stay nice and safely in peace? _

_I… I don't want to talk about it._

_No, that was not my William side coming through, you ponce!_

_Let's just forget it. For today. You're pissed, I'm pissed…_

_Hey, wanna get pissed?_

…

_Oh, geez, just cos you don't think it's a good idea…_

8 8 8


	3. Feeling the Cold

**Chapter 3: Feeling the Cold**

**A/N (Ah, I'm so sorry. I know I say that far too much, don't I? I guess having not only just recently gotten back in the mood for writing, but having actually had the time to write as well has made me a little bit crazy. Not only have I got a new story up, but I'd also like to keep continuing this one. **

**Thank you to all of you who have been so patient, and especially to Kim for making sure that nothing sinister had happened to stop me from writing :P. This entire chapter is just for you guys. :). Heck, who am I kidding… these stories are always for you guys, and your wonderful reviews that brighten up my day. :) **

**So hopefully, this won't be the last update I make while in this crazy-writing-mood. Enjoy, and please tell me what you think. :) )**

Buffy pulled her jacket slightly closer. As always, following a scorching day on the Hellmouth, the night decided to go the opposite way and become freezing cold. On one such night, she remembered Spike had attempted to explain it to her. Once he got halfway through she'd shaken her head to stop him.

"No offense, Spike," she'd said, her teeth chattering because she hadn't stopped home to change and was thus still in a t-shirt and jeans. "I don't really care at the moment."

He'd taken a glance at her. "Let's get you home, pet. About the only thing you can do t' the demons around her at the moment is freeze 'em by looking at you."

"Har-de-har-har."

Her breath misted in front of her. Surprisingly enough, she saw a plume of matching mist spiral out of his mouth.

"Spike, why do you even bother to breathe when you don't need to?"

He cocked his head and looked at her. "I don't rightly know, pet. I guess it's just strange to be around all you humans breathing and not breathe as well."

She laughed. "Peer pressure working on the Big Bad?" she teased.

"Oi! That's not what I meant. It's just the whole stillness thing's always made me a bit uncomfortable… I guess I feel… I dunno. The instinct to breathe is still strong in me sometimes, y'know?"

The words came out before she could stop them. "I don't remember seeing Angel breathe much."

He stiffened at the name. "Me and the Grand Poof don't have much in common."

"Except for the fact you both brood?" she asked sweetly.

That broke the tension. He growled and chased her, and she ran, the two of them weaving in and out of the night, laughing.

"Come back 'ere Slayer!" he yelled. "Take that back!"

"Make me!" she shouted back, giggling.

He shook his head and marveled, even as his retort left his mouth and left her giggling even more. It had been a month since he'd told her. It had been two months since he'd properly realized. And in that one month in between of agonizing indecision, of insecurity and fear, he'd never, ever dreamed it would become like this.

They were… friends? Slaying partners? Whatever they were, he'd never…

Not since his relationship with his mother had he felt like this. There were a million things to work through, of course. But this wasn't like Dru or Darla or Angelus. It wasn't like Cecily and his yearning. He remembered the friendship he'd had with his mother before… he gulped. He didn't want to remember that. But he had remembered. It was… accepting? Friendly? Laughing?

He didn't have words to describe it. He didn't actually really have time. At the most inopportune moment, as his eyes blurred with a haze of tears that he choked back, he heard Buffy's gasp of pain from up ahead in the darkness. Instantly, he morphed to game face and roared, tears and memories forgotten.

She rebounded back from the fence with a kick. The burly vamp threw her aside. She landed neatly and spun around, laying three punches in quick succession that hit deep into his solar plexus. He roared and threw her back into the fence again just as Spike reached them.

"I've always wanted to kill the Slayer," the vamp leered.

"I've always wanted piano lessons," Buffy shot back. "So really, who's surprised we have all this unexpressed rage?"

Spike reached from behind to twist the vamp's neck but he was finally alerted to the Master Vampire's presence. He sent a meaty fist crashing into the blonde's head, sending him flying backwards. Undeterred, he leapt up again, his ears ringing as he smoothly rushed the vamp again, just in time for Buffy to begin assailing him from behind.

"But you know… I think I'm expressing mine better. Tell you what, you find a good anger management class…"

The vamp had a Slayer on one side and a pissed off Master vampire on the other. He had no chance.

They staked him at the same time.

"And we'll shove a pointy bit of wood in your heart," Spike finished for her matter-of-fact-ly

She laughed. He marveled again. The bell-like tone made his undead heart want to palpitate. The Slayer happy was golden. "Well that's got to be the world record for closure," she grinned.

Before he could reply, he was interrupted. "Hey!" someone yelled.

They turned and a light flashed in their eyes. Luckily, Spike had slipped back to his human face as a watchman came up to them.

"Miss, Mr., if you're looking for one of those rave parties, I'm afraid you're late. Chased a bunch of kids out of here last night."

"Oh right. Yeah. Um… darn," Spike attempted to cover.

"My fellow ravers will be so disappointed. It was my turn to bring the Bundt cake," Buffy sighed.

The watchman gave her a genuine smile. "You know, if it was my call, I'd let you do whatever you want. It's not like anybody's using this place or nothin'. But they just don't pay me enough to argue with the boss so..."

Spike put his hands up. "Already gone."

They turned to leave, but the watchman stopped them.

"Oh, hey! Hold it, miss. Take your... whatever this is with you."

He bent over, picking up a glowing yellow orb. Buffy and Spike shared a glance. Pulsating energy seemed to emanate from it. The watchman handed it to Buffy,

"Thank you," she said, startled.

"Glow balls, huh?" he laughed. "I swear, I don't get your generation. What is that thing?"

She studied it curiously. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

They turned to walk away, but he had one last thing to say. Addressing Spike this time, the watchman straightened.

"Better walk her home, Mr. There's no telling what'll happen in the dark."

Spike nodded brusquely. "I was planning to."

"Good. You two have fun now."

They walked back in silence. When they were at her door, however, he paused before leaving.

"Better get that to Giles soon."

"I will, don't worry Spike. Thanks for your help today."

He gave her a smirk. "No problem at all, Slayer."

She watched as he melted back into the night, his shock of platinum blonde hair disappearing. Then, to still her confusion, she stepped into the house.

"Hey, Buffy."

"Mum!" she moved to the bench, dropping her coat on the back of a seat. "What are you doing still up?" she glanced at the clock. "It's past 12."

"Couldn't sleep," Joyce admitted, absently stirring her cocoa. "Is Spike still here?"

She shook her head. "He's gone, I think he's pretty tired. He was up most of today and that was his sleep time… but enough about him. Are you alright?"

Joyce paused as she sipped. Buffy's throat constricted around her heart.

"It's the headaches again, isn't it?" she whispered.

"They're not too bad," Joyce coughed. "But they just keep me up, you know?"

Buffy closed a hand around her mother's, and physically flinched at how fragile it seemed. She shut her eyes briefly. These were the same hands that had caressed her through the womb, that had supported her as a child, that had taken her temperature when she was sick. These were the same hands that had held her tightly when Hank had left. These were the same hands that toiled in and out every day, a single mother to two children.

"We need to get you to the doctors again. Why haven't the results come in yet?" she demanded agitatedly. "It's been an entire month!"

"I guess they must be pretty busy," Joyce stirred the cocoa automatically. The dry powder had long dissolved. "I've heard that the ward for Mental disorders is overflowing at the moment. Most of their resources have gone there. And… they did warn before we went that it could take weeks before they could get a specialist to look."

"But they should still do something. We're going to get you to the doctors this week."

She expected protest. But there was none.

"C'mon, Mum," Buffy managed to choke out when the weary silence from her mother squeezed her heart just a little bit more. "Let's go to bed."

8 8 8

The pain throbbed agitatedly in my left temple, making it almost impossible to concentrate on the blurry blackboard. The screech of chalk was also beginning to induce a need to pass out. Or vomit. Or both.

The sudden scratching of a pen in my vicinity brought me back. Being in school, you learn to block out noises like that. But not if it's the loud, obnoxious shrieking of Daniel's half-rusty, ear-torturing device. I swear, Dawn and I have thrown it in about all the bins we've known the existence of and yet there it is again…

Doesn't really make me want to think about how he goes searching for it. That's Daniel. The most stubborn idi…

He slid the note over.

Are you okay?

I nodded, but the movement made me wince. He rolled his eyes as he reclaimed his piece of paper. From my left, I heard the whining protests of Dawn's pencil. I couldn't blame her for always sharpening it.

Two notes slid in my direction at the same time. I felt loved.

You wanna get out of here?

You want to take a break or something?

I didn't dare shake my head. Instead, I wrote back.

Sorry guys. I'm fine, don't worry about it. I'll hold on till lunch.

My headache was quickly becoming unbearable, though. I took some random person's advice and tried to concentrate on something else. The easiest, and surprisingly, most engaging thing was our History teacher.

Miss. Maldrow was new this term. She was also doing very well. Three weeks in and she hadn't gone the slightest bit insane.

Possibly because she was already insane to start with.

"The Salem witch trials are probably the most famous hunt, but it sure wasn't the only one. They happened all over Europe. Ned, why do you think this happened?"

A freckled boy blinked sleepily. "Um… because they were afraid?"

"Good, you've been listening," Miss. Maldrow said amusedly. "To understand this, just take Star Wars as an example."

"Star Wars?" Kirsty's voice rose an unbelievable octave in overdone surprise. My headache throbbed even more. "What does Star Wars have to do with the Witch Hunts?"

"Simple. And since I'd rather keep my hearing, please do be a little quieter. Does any other Star Wars fan want to explain?"

Kirsty flushed at the reprimand, but Daniel leapt onto Miss. Maldrow's question. The waving hand couldn't possibly be missed. I smiled. That boy and his enthusiasm…

Miss. Maldrow laughed her full-hearted chuckle. "Yes, Daniel?"

"It's the thing that Yoda and Ben both always say. Fear leads to Anger, Anger leads to Hate, Hate leads to," his voice lowered dramatically. "_the Dark Side_!"

"Very good," Miss. Maldrow rewarded him with another chuckle, before turning back to the board. "As you can see, the people of the Middle Ages had a lot to worry about. Every bad thing that was out of their control, drought, sickness, death… it was all attributed to supernatural occurrences. Of course, they had a natural fear of all of these. They blamed them on demons and witches and warlocks. Of course, when bad times came upon them, the fear became overwhelming."

She stabbed out a crude diagram. I winced as the chalk scraped, but now the headache was just an annoyance. I was far too interested.

"Miss?" I put my hand up. "Wasn't it also because the Christian Church was afraid of anything they couldn't explain and already had that thing of denigrating women?"

People hissed as I said that, but Miss. Maldrow didn't seem fazed. "Definitely. It's well known now that the Church at that time controlled the people with fear. Self-hate was most likely rampant. The Church denied and denigrated a lot of the things, like sex…"

The popular group of girls audibly gasped. The popular group of guys snickered. I saw Dawn roll her eyes, and I joined her, knowing that Daniel and every other person who wasn't so deeply entwined in the social system they'd become mindless clones was doing the same. Miss. Maldrow continued on, undeterred. Man, I liked this teacher.

"Women, pleasure in general, really. The reason for this was because the Church had to gain control over the paganism and Wiccan roots of the areas, and these religions all glorified the body, women, sex…"

The same general response. I rolled my eyes again.

"And pleasure. Thus, when these natural things were repressed, they lashed out at those that they saw as embodying these things."

"Miss?" Kirsty mimicked me. "Doesn't that just prove that through the ages people who are different are bad?"

She raised his eyebrow at that. "I don't believe you've been listening, Kirsty. There was probably nothing bad about the innocents who were persecuted. Mob mentality, repression, and self-hatred caused the Witch Hunts. And we all know that mob mentality is a very dangerous thing, because humans seem to revert to their most basic instincts of violence and self-interest."

Dawn couldn't resist. "Would you say that mob mentality is still with us, Miss. Maldrow? Even if we aren't repressed and hate ourselves any more and there are no witch hunts?" she asked innocently. I turned my laugh into a cough. Dizzyness swept up from my eyes.

"Mob mentality, sadly enough, will probably always be with us," she responded, her fingers forgetting the chalk and intertwining. "In any human group, there always lies the possibility. But most of all, Dawn, do you really think we don't hate ourselves any more? Do you really think we're still not repressed?"

I saw uncertainty flicker across her features. "Well… we're a lot more open about sex and stuff."

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the gasps.

"Are we?" Miss. Maldrow asked mildly. "It's still seen as a 'dirty' thing, isn't it? And as to the self-hatred… the rapidly skyrocketing depression and suicide rates say a lot. Perhaps your question should be, has anything really changed?"

"But Miss. Maldrow," Ned spoke up again. "There are no witch hunts now."

That earned another laugh, but it had turned bitter all of a sudden. I watched, wide-eyed as the sun decided to duck behind a cloud and the light that had illuminated Miss. Maldrow's face turned to shadow. A deep, icy sadness in her eyes encompassed her. The entire classroom turned cold.

The bell rang.

"Class dismissed," Miss. Maldrow said softly.


	4. One Step Forwards

**Chapter 4: One Step Forwards…**

**A/N (Here we go! All Internal Assessments OVER, thank Goddess, so now I can actually write! Thank you again to Kim for reviewing… I agree. Joyce really probably should have seen a specialist. sigh. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy, and please tell me what you think. :) I'd love to hear any feed back. )**

"I can't believe I'm actually enjoying history these days," Daniel marveled. "What's up with that?"

"This Miss. Maldrow must be good," Buffy commented dryly as the Magic Box bell tinkered happily above them. Dawn had one day likened it to Daniel. That little comment had earned her a full-grade tickling. "I mean, I know everything about her in the space of a fifteen minute walk."

"She's cool," Dawn shrugged. "She's the first Sunnydale Junior High teacher who is interesting. That's an instant cool."

"She's probably a demon," Anya commented brightly as she overheard their conversation.

The three stared at her, horrified. "Don't say that!"

Daniel groaned and then whacked his forehead. "We're doomed."

They all raised an eyebrow at that. "I thought you were optimistic," Giles remarked.

"I'm being optimistic," Daniel grinned back. "We're all doomed!"

Buffy frowned as, at his words, the glowing sphere in her pocket physically pulsed. She surveyed the Scoobies sprawled or standing. "Hang on a sec, that reminds me. I have a little Scooby-centric deal."

She brought it out and handed it to Giles. "I put this before the group. What the hell is it?"

"It appears to be paranormal in origin," Giles studied it in awe, weighing it in his hands. Willow looked up from the table.

"How can you tell?"

"Well, it's so shiny…"

Dawn, Daniel, Xander, and funnily enough, Tara simultaneously snickered.

"Found it on patrol," Buffy told them. "This watchman guy gave it to me and Spike. Does anyone have a clue?"

Cassandra swallowed

"Maybe you should go back to where the watchman guy was," Willow suggested. "There might be more."

Cassandra swallowed again.

"That's a good idea, Willow," Buffy nodded. "I'll check it out with Spike tonight."

"Whatever it is," Tara spoke up. "It feels v-very powerful."

Cassandra gulped.

"Oh?" Giles handed the orb over to Tara who looked surprised. He smiled at that. "Willow has informed us that your empathic ability for sensing objects and people is very powerful," he told her. "What do you think?"

Tara's eyes went blank for a few seconds, and then she was back. A worried line jagged its way through her forehead. "That's strange… I can't get anything except for its p-power. But… it f-feels good."

"Good, you say?" Giles took the orb back again. "Well, I don't…"

Cassandra snapped.

"It's the Dagon Sphere," she said hoarsely.

Silence greeted her for a few seconds, and then everyone began talking. She felt like she was in a bubble of pain. The headache was back, and throbbing away merrily.

"Huh?" Buffy stared.

"Dagon Sphere?" Daniel echoed.

"Funny name," Xander muttered.

"What?" Willow asked.

"Wait, how..?" Dawn frowned.

"The Dagon sphere?" Giles muttered.

"The Dagon sphere?" Anya repeated, searching her extensive memory.

"The Dagon sphere?" Tara murmured.

"How do you know this?" they all said simultaneously.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Daniel saw the blood drain out of her face and quickly was by her side, shaking her shoulder. "Cass? Cass!"

She snapped back. "I'm okay," she looked into his worried eyes, finding comfort there for a second before turning back to face the barrage of questions.

"Remember?" she hesitated. "I… I get feelings about things. It was how I felt Dracula coming and how I knew Buffy and Faith had switched."

There was a universal "Huh?"

_Oh great. There's probably some memory thing attached to this._

"I'm a seer," she explained. "Look up 'Dagon's Sphere'. Just trust me."

"But…" Giles tried.

For once, it was straightforward Anya. She went right to the correct book, flipped it open, and peered through the pages.

"This?"

8 8 8

Dawn and Buffy walked back home, shaky.

"I can't believe that… I didn't remember," Dawn wondered.

"I know," Buffy answered, unlocking the door. "I can't believe it either."

"It was so big, but I guess it got lost in the whole Faith-Riley thing…"

Buffy was about to let the pain of that remembered memory wound her when a soft moan came from the living room. "Shh! Mum?"

Another groan. Buffy and Dawn rushed in to her side. Joyce's face was a picture of pain as she moved fitfully on the couch.

"Mum!" Buffy cried.

"What's wrong?" demanded Dawn hysterically.

"It's just my head…" Joyce said weakly as she tried to sit up. By the deepened lines on her face, she had been there for a while.

Buffy's mouth thinned. "I'm taking you to the doctor."

"No, sweetheart. I'm fine," Joyce shook her head and winced.

"We don't know that! We don't know anything. We're going."

"I just need my prescription," Joyce looked pleadingly up at her eldest. "Please?"

Buffy picked up the slip and stood, in Slayer-mode. "Hospital pharmacy open?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Determination coloured her voice. "Ten minutes."

8 8 8

The technician handed me the bottle of pills, and I turned to leave, examining the bottle as I went. I'd get this back to Mum as quickly as possible. The memory of her face in pain made me shudder.

God, I was so scared.

"Hey! It's Buffy, isn't it?"

I spun around and looked at the intern calling my name, confused.

"I'm Ben... but you can call me man-nurse. Everybody else here does."

Suddenly, the patient he was wheeling sat up, struggling hard in an attempt to get off the gurney. My eyes widened as I recognized him.

"You're… you're the night watchman!"

"I don't belong here! I have important instructions. Fascists!"

I watched in shock as Ben pushed him back down while the orderlies fastened his restraints. "Now you're hurting the nice orderly who's here to help you."

He turned to the nurse. "I need nine cc's of Phenobarbital in this guy imme…"

I finally got over my shock and stepped up to help, pinning his shoulder to the gurney with as much firm gentleness as I could afford. I felt Ben's eyes looking at me.

"Uh… or not. Now let's strap him," he looked down at the night watchman. "For your own good, I promise."

As the watchman struggled, he turned to me. "You know, not to be rampantly sexist in the workplace, but you've got some serious muscles for a girl."

I was stuck and suddenly I regretted helping. They could have done very well without me, with the sedative-pumpy thingies. "I… um…"

"Radioactive spider bite?"

I forced a laugh. "How'd you guess?"

"I'm a doctor," he smiled, before grimacing. "Well, almost."

I was about to reply when the night watchman seized my arm. I almost jumped, but I kept my hold down. But then I loosened it as I saw what he was staring at.

Mum's medicine bottle.

"Doesn't even help! Doesn't make a damn bit of difference!"

"I've met this guy…" I told Ben, beginning to get a tingling feeling at the back of my neck that told me something was seriously wrong. "He's a security guard. He's not crazy."

I could see the disbelief in his eyes. "If you say so..."

The watchman ignored both of us as the orderlies continued strapping him down. "They're coming at you!" he howled. "Don't think you're above it, missy. They come through the family! They get to your family!

That hit too close to home. I let go of him, stunned. "My… my family? What do you mean?"

The medicine bottle fell to the floor. They wheeled him away. I stared after him as he struggled against his bonds. Ben picked up the bottle and handed it back to me.

"I'm real sorry about that. Here. For your mom?"

"Yeah…" I replied, still dazed, my Buffy-mind working overload. "Thanks."

"She's not feeling better?" he asked sympathetically.

As everything fell into place, my eyes narrowed. "Not yet but she will be. I'm starting to figure out what's wrong."

I ran, leaving him behind. I almost threw the bottle of pills at Daniel who'd opened the door, presumably the two had come over since I was gone, but I wasn't thinking of that. I had to get to the Magic Box.

8 8 8

"Giles! Giles!"

The Watcher glanced up, startled as his Slayer ran into the Magic Box.

"Buffy?"

Her eyes were strength. "Giles, I have an idea what's making my mom sick."

"Have you spoken with her doctors?" Giles asked.

"They won't find anything. What's hurting her… it's supernatural," she picked up the Dagon Sphere. "The night watchman who found this thing? He went crazy. Overnight."

Willow, Giles, and Anya, the ones closest to the orb, stood alarmed. "But it said that it "brought protection against the one who can not be named," Anya protested.

"I don't think it's that," Buffy shook her head. "It won't hurt us. I had it on me all night. But this guy, he saw things... he said things."

"Such as?" Giles asked mildly.

"They'll come at me through my family," Buffy repeated with a tone of finality.

"Who will?" Xander asked sharply.

"I don't know... yet. But whatever touched this guy, it made him see through what the rest of us are seeing. He knew someone's hurting my mum and they're trying to get to me."

"It's possible," Tara offered. "There are m-magicks that can work to divine loved ones a-and then hit at them."

"But still... the ramblings of a madman aren't much to go on," Giles noted.

"Yeah, but it's a start," Buffy said. "We need to find out who's making my mom sick and how."

"Then what?" Willow asked.

Buffy's eyes turned hard. "Then I hunt them... find them... and kill them."

8 8 8

_I can't find my way out._

_Can you help me?_

_I'm lost. Tumbling, falling._

_Crying, like a little child._

_I can't find my way out anymore…_

_I've regressed._

_In an effort to keep the remainder of myself alive, part of me spends its time as a child again. This other part, me, the part speaking now… I'm still furiously digging away at the walls, bleeding._

_I can only control for about a day at one go now. I used to be able to go for at least a week. I'm so afraid. I'm so afraid._

_It's been half a year. I know that, because last time I managed to break through, it was about a month or so after Christmas._

_Oh Goddess… I'm so scared._


	5. Two Steps Back

**Chapter 5: Two steps back…**

**A/N (Hello again. : ) . I'm happy to say that here's another chapter for you, even though I'm beginning to feel as if people like the Path of Kyane better… I can't imagine why :P. Thanks again, Kim, for reviewing. . I hear your point about Buffy and Dawn saying 'Mom'… but I can't help it . ;;. It will always be 'Mum' for me because I live in Australia. And although Cass does have the headaches, they're slightly different from Cordelia's. I'm glad you found the last chapter interesting, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. : )**

8 8 8

Everything's been moving way too fast for me lately.

Got a lot to get my head around, I do. I love the Slayer. 'm helpin' the Slayer. 'm talkin' with three kids I would have ripped to pieces for the fun of it. I know I would have gone for the Nibblet first. She's strong an' brave an' pure. Then I would have gone for Junior. Let Platelet's fear seep into m' very skin before killin' her as well.

But that's all in the past. I can't even think of doin' that now. Why's it so hard to believe, eh? ThatI'mamanI'mamonsterI'mademonI'maperson? They blur together they do. Why doesn't anyone else seem to see it?

Even the Slayer. Even… Buffy. I've… we've talked, and it's felt like a miracle, every second of it. When we fight on patrol. When we fight in general. Arguin' always did get my blood running. And she gets my blood running even faster. But she doesn't get it, yeah. Not yet. I don't want to get my hopes up, though. She blows hot and cold, she does. One second, she's lookin' at me and I can see awe.

The next second, though I think she tries hidin' it from me sometimes…

The next second, I just see disgust, all over again.

And that kicks William the Bloody Awful Poet to the curb, it bloody well does. Takes all of me to stay, stay an' help her from the beasties of the night. Takes all of me to stay next to her, feel her gold radiatin' off her like the bloody sun itself and I feel like 'm gonna dust if she looks at me like that again.

Ah, what'd I expect? Only people that treat me real decent I have to admit are Joyce, the Juniors, and surprisingly enough, Glinda.

Glinda an' Joyce are the ones that look at me like they can see me. And Platelet. But she doesn't see me the way Glinda does. Always feel as if it's her eyes that just take everything away and all that's left is the man and the demon.

Make sense?

Doesn't to me.

8 8 8

"See?" Tara smiled gently. "Things don't always have to be about the upcoming Apocalypse."

Willow chewed her bottom lip, looking back and forth between her lover and her mentor. "Are you sure, Giles? I just want to help… this new thing that's coming up sounds pretty bad and I…"

He waved a hand and pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. "Nonsense, Willow. I'm sure that one afternoon off won't do much in the way of harm. Besides, even though I am loath to admit it, we don't really have much in the way of a timetable. The Apocalypse could be months away."

A wry grin tugged at his lips, then.

"Then again, have we ever been so lucky?

8 8 8

Things were happening way too quickly for my liking, I decided as I poured the sand. Mum getting sick again. The new thing in town, which sounded bad from what Giles read out of the book and the business with Cassandra. Then there was the _other_ new thing in town as well, by the look of the glowing orb. Maybe they were connected and it was just one thing?

Oh wait. I'm the Slayer. It's the Hellmouth. Since when did I ever get that lucky?

I finished pouring and began preparing myself. Mum was resting in her room now. Dawn, Cass, and Daniel were inside theirs, studying. Or so they claimed.

For various reasons, I thought I was justified in doubting it. Not in the least my own experiences at their age.

Now, I sat down, lighted the candles, and let my mind be blank, just like Giles had taught me. It was hard at first, despite everything.

8 8 8

Everything… slows.

I swim through the air, intoxicated. For one, for me, to reside in the body of a Slayer, to _be_ the Slayer, this felt impossibly, improbably unnatural, and yet natural at the same time.

Have you ever felt what it's like to swim? Not laps, not going up and down the lanes mindlessly, churning like a machine. To fight against the water pounding against your skin, salt rough against your throat. It's been a long time since I've swam like that. Haven't been too fond of water for a long, long time. For obvious reasons. But this, this was like swimming in a sea, eddies of… power? Energy? Colour? Spirit? Soul? swirling all around me, pulling me this way and that. And yet, my body remained still, stable, moving fluidly, slowly, against an onrush of magic.

For the first time, I saw our world as it was. Magic. Was this what Willow and Tara felt, saw? Giles on the odd occasion? Slayers? Demons? _This_ was the world we walked in?

How could I have never seen it before? The feeling you get that someone's watching you… a direct energy/magic line from their eyes to you. The feeling of walking into a room and having the air become heavy before you because of the argument, one of many, that would eventually end your parents' marriage? That feeling. Feelings.

They're magic.

So I walked downstairs, buoyed by a breath of determination that still glazed the staircase, glowing faintly, from a half-hour ago when I'd marched up, magic in hand. I walked through the hallway, noting a strong stream of green, emerald magic that seemed to encase the entire house like a memory. It was beautiful. A part of me wanted to remain like this, seeping in and out, drinking in this…

No. I had a mission. I pushed away those thoughts, and just as I was about to swim to find her, Mum was in front of me.

Her voice came like an echo.

"Buffy? I'm going out now, okay?"

"Going… out?" my fuzzed!Buffy brain only comprehended that that was somehow a bad thing. "But…"

"Either the miracle of science in the form of those handy little pills have worked, uh… miracles, or I'm just suddenly feeling a whole lot better. I'll be back later, alright?"

I studied her. Frantically. Searching. Something was wrong, wasn't it? Why couldn't I find it?

"Nothing…"

Her eyes became concerned. "Buffy? Are you alright?"

"Nothing…" I repeated, before shaking my head. Have to cover up…

"Nothing," I repeated, again. "Just had a long day, is all."

She smiled as she shrugged into her coat. "You're so grown up."

I watched the door close, leaving tendrils of white floating in Mum's passage. And I watched, breath in throat, the photograph on the wall she had stood in front of.

8 8 8

"Do I have to separate you two?"

Cassandra Evans was angry. Which was rare. And when she was angry, her wavy black hair somehow became completely straight. Which was just as rare. Not that anyone around was going to be commenting on the state of her hair any time soon. Not when the only other two people in the room happened to have a electrostatic field of one thousand tons of anger sizzling between them.

Briefly, she wondered whether that was even possible.

"I'm not saying that!" Daniel yelled, completely oblivious to the anger rolling off his other friend.

"You damn well are!" Dawn yelled back. "I so can do this! I haven't lived with Buffy for my entire life and not learnt anything!"

"I'm not saying that," his voice had become deadly again, and it was the calm that Cassandra Evans had always feared. The calm, because it was so obvious that nothing was alright. That everything was wrong.

The calm, because that was what had always come before her father's rages.

The calm, because to her, that had always signified pain.

"Oh?" Dawn challenged, her eyes blazing. "Sounds like it to me! Just because you're scared doesn't mean you can start pulling me down with you, Daniel!

He took a step back, and Dawn stepped forwards. One step lost, another gained. It poured in slow motion across her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what was going on, that deeper tension, the undercurrent between the two of them that was so much more than the contents of a simple book.

"I'm not scared," he said evenly.

There was a crack in the wall. Cassandra found her eyes drawn to it, and remembered. Ah, those memories. The false, real, confusing, memories. Time and withdrawal and everything spun into fragments of power that the monks had woven together. She remembered Dawn sheepishly telling her of the time when Buffy and her had gotten into a fight. Dawn had wanted to tell Joyce when Angel had become Angelus, in case he had targeted her. Buffy had paled and gone out to hunt. Dawn had flung a stake at the wall in frustration and fear and pain. It was the one she'd been painstakingly carving for her sister's birthday, ever since she'd learned that her sister was the Slayer.

One crack.

"Sure you're not," she jeered. "Why, then? You just don't think I'm good enough?"

A laugh, a hysterical laugh rolled around his throat, and that was when Cassandra knew that something had ripped.

"I don't think you're good enough! Hah! We don't even know whether you're _real_!"

8 8 8

"We don't even know whether you're _real_!"

I stared. Wide-eyed. For a second.

Dawn's entire room was shifting back in and out of reality. One second, I saw all the girly, teenage paraphernalia. The next, it was just an empty storage room. One second, Dawn was standing, shocked. The next, there was nothing but a fierce, intense green nothingness.

And…

Oh…

My…

My brain struggled to comprehend.

One second…

There.

Not there.

There.

Not there.

All three of them shifted, back and forth, back and forth, backandforthbackandforthbackandforthbackandforth. I felt pain begin to swell at the back of my head. I felt something snarl. Felt something hiss. Felt something sing. Felt it all wash over my consciousness, and then suddenly I broke free.

"You're not my sister."

She stared back at me from a million miles away. I saw red glowing amongst the green. "What the hell! Why is everyone being so insane-o today!"

I looked at the other two. "What are you? Get away from me! Get out of here!"

"Buffy… are you alright?"

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

"What did you mean I wasn't real!"

Wasn't… real?

I heard her last part. I was on her before she knew it. I seized her arm and slammed her up against the wall. "What are you?"

"Get off me!" she shouted.

I felt hands clawing at my back. Two well-placed kicks sent the… whatever they were, crashing against the opposite wall, dislodging her posters. "You want to hurt me?" I demanded.

She struggled. "Let go of me, you freak!"

"Then you deal with me!"

Fear? "I'm telling Mum!"

Anger. "You stay away from my mother!"

Plaster cracked as I shoved her even harder against the wall. She saw death written in my eyes. I saw nothing.

The moment was broken by my cellphone ringing. I grabbed it slowly out of my pocket with my free hand.

"What?"

Giles' voice crackled. "Cassandra was right. This thing… the Dagon Sphere. We looked it up, and it has a history going back several millennia. It's a protective device, used to ward off ancient primordial evil."

I fixed my fingers near her throat. "Any idea what this evil looks like?"

"Unfortunately, no. This is where accounts get vague. All we've managed to uncover so far is the Dagon Sphere was created to repel That Which Cannot Be Named."

Resolve. "I'm going to go back to the factory where I found it. Whoever planted this doohickey's got answers."

I heard him clean his glasses. "Buffy, you've heard me say this before but do be careful. Anything that goes unnamed is usually an object of deep worship or great fear… maybe both. Have you completed the trance? Seen what's harming your mother?

"That's the thing... I just saw…"

I remembered who's throat my fingers were curled around, and the slumped forms behind me.

"Nothing. It didn't work."

I clicked the phone off. I changed my grip to her sweater. I marched her to the door and threw her, still stunned, out.

The other things were unconscious.

I threw them out as well, out into the night, and then locked the door against them.

I needed to find answers.

8 8 8

To this day, even the Watcher doesn't know why I felt it. It was like a jerk through the bonds that still surrounded all of us from the enjoinment spell. I'd called 'em cowards just to piss 'em off when they didn't want to try it again before more research.

Hell, I hate that word.

Not that I blame them, of course. It was purely a thing I had to say. Had to remind 'em who the Big Bad was. Just had to needle 'em a little bit. I know they ached for it. I know they ached for it cos I ached for it. But I didn't want Rupes or anyone gettin' injured again. Cos of me.

No, it was not guilt, you soddin' idiots.

But back to the point, still don't know why I was the only one who got it either. Didn't make sense. Still, the fact is that on the 17th of February, 'round half past eight, I felt something pull. At my undead heart.

No, that is not ironic. Really.

And no! I didn't remember it cos it was important or anything. I just remember the exact date, time, and whatnot cos I got a good memory.

Oh, sod it all.

Yeah, I remembered it cos of the bloody pain it dealt me both before and after, in the form of a Slayer-shaped package and her lil' tumble with a near-death experience.


	6. Precognition

**Chapter 6: Precognition**

**A/N. (winces. I am incredibly sorry for taking so long with this one. Suffice to say that, seeing as my important exams ended a while ago, I really have no excuse except that I've been trying my hand at some original fiction.**

**Thank you again, Kim, for your reviewing : ). Yes, Buffy is a bit insane-o… except that this time she really has a reason. I hope that you lot enjoy this chapter! )**

8 8 8

Buffy paused at the gate, turning back to him. "We have to be careful. I don't think that security guy's warning was just him being loopy."

Spike frowned as he fell into stride next to her. "I don't like what you've told me," he admitted. It wasn't like he hadn't stared down the gullet of madness time and time again. But the mere fact that the perfectly sane man they'd met the day before was now insane was enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Well, it wasn't exactly pleasant," Buffy replied dryly. "Then again, I'm surprised. You didn't seem to have a problem when the craziness of your ex-ho."

Caught off guard, Spike stopped in his tracks. Before she knew it, his nails were biting into her shoulders, not quite hard enough to hurt, and she was swung angrily around to face a pissed-off vampire. "That was bloody uncalled for," he snarled, snapping at the air with his fangs.

Slightly shaken at how quickly things had changed, she slapped away his hands hard enough to bruise. "Don't touch me," she said coldly.

His golden eyes flamed. "What the soddin' hell is this, Slayer?"

"Nothing," she retorted, shaking off her jacket as if he'd carried something foul. His eyes glittered even more dangerously as she kept walking.

"Well, you coming or not?" she tossed over her shoulder.

With an effort, he slipped out of game face, but he couldn't stop the growl in his throat. "I should bloody well leave you to whatever beastie is in there," he said darkly.

If she'd heard, she didn't show it. Scowling even more now, Spike turned his back on the Slayer and strode away into the night, muttering to himself.

He made it five steps before remembering that Slayers had no defences against going insane.

Growling in frustration, he turned back to run after the quickly disappearing Slayer.

8 8 8

"Right," Dawn muttered unsteadily. "We're alone, we're outside, it's night time. You two have only just woken up again, my knuckles are bruised from bashing the door… and… uh… what do we need to worry about first? Ah, ah… weapons check?"

"A p-pen," Cassandra gulped.

"Two pencils," Daniel said softly.

"One stake," Dawn gripped her hand around the wood tighter. "Man, am I so glad I tucked this into my pocket this morning."

"Yeah," Cass agreed shakily. "I'm rather glad too."

"Here," Daniel tried to quell the rising panic in his chest. "Have a pencil."

The ignominy of the moment would have sent them all into gales of laughter had they not been so scared. It was night. They were in Sunnydale. Buffy had just acted absolutely crazy. Dawn was hurt… you could almost see the pain in her eyes, and Cassandra knew she'd been hit the hardest. Daniel was bewildered… but he was hiding his fear well. She swallowed.

She knew why Buffy had gone crazy on Dawn. She'd forgotten about that. But… why had she gone crazy on all three of them, and then… done this? Her head still ached incredibly from where she'd been knocked out, and she doubted Daniel was feeling any better. The night air was cold enough to cut through her jacket, and she shivered miserably, clutching the 2B pencil he'd handed her.

"Uh…" Dawn couldn't seem to keep still, to keep silent. Hysteria was gripping her, and it was all Cassandra could do to not feel hysterical too. "We… we need to…"

"C-could we knock on the neighbours' doors?" Cassandra tried hesitantly.

Dawn shook her head instantly. "Not an option. You know how most people around here would as soon as pull out a shotgun than let three strangers in."

"Anyone from school?"

Dawn's eyes were frustrated. "They're all on the other side of Sunnydale."

"Well, we need to do something," Daniel bit his lip. "Or else we're all gonna die."

8 8 8

When he'd caught up, she ignored him. Biting back his frustration, he concentrated on focusing anywhere except the bloody impossible bint he was standing next to. The concrete yard seemed empty as they stepped silently, like the predators they were. Uneasy, the blonde vampire gazed across the seemingly abandoned warehouse. He was already jittery from after he'd met the Slayer and had almost gotten staked… their little scuffle hadn't helped. Next time, maybe he'd think twice about sneaking up behind her when she was walking so determined-like. But still… she should have realised it was him. Or at least that there was someone there.

He frowned again as he realised something. The Slayer was off her game.

Turning his glance towards her, he watched as she shone her light over the remains of the shattered door. Gazing out into the black hole it had left, Spike kicked a fragment of the steel. It rolled across the concrete, making a pitiful, dead clank.

"Whoever, whatever did this…" he started.

"Is of the bad," Buffy finished, her mouth in a grim line. She stepped forwards, through the massive gap where the reinforced metal door had once stood. "Is _definitely_, of the bad."

He cast another glance her way, and she was too fixed on what was ahead to notice his wary eyes. That was enough to make him bite his lip gently. There was no doubt about it… something was off about the Slayer. He could tell it was her… it wasn't like when it had been Faith in there. But she was too tense, too rigid. Every step she took was something harsh and brutal… something that he hadn't seen from her for a long time. It was just enough for him to curb his anger and replace it with worry.

"You alright, Slayer?"

"Perfectly fine," she said cuttingly as they reached what appeared to be light. "Stay outside, in case anything tries to cut off our retreat."

He didn't take orders, but he had to silently agree. Still, he wished he could somehow become two and send one half of him in after her and one to guard the door. He didn't like this place. It wasn't just vamp intuition, it was just plain fact. Anything that had smashed through those doors couldn't be good.

He watched her as she snuck through the corridor, making sure to angle his position so he could leap to her aid if she needed it. She moved like water, and he admired her before he stiffened as she gasped and then broke into a run.

"Whoah!"

Carefully, so he remained hidden, he crept along the wall so he could keep an eye on the Slayer as well as an eye on the entrance. His own vampiric senses were tingling now. The heavy darkness of the corridor and the harsh light of the room seemed in such heavy contrast even his powerful eyes were disoriented when they switched between the night outside and the false day inside. Steeling himself, he switched his vision into the room.

What he saw shocked him. She was on her knees, untying a bound up, beaten-looking monk. He winced and felt his blood begin to rush without the aid of his undead heart.

"It was you who planted the Dagon sphere, right?" she babbled, her fingers shaking, but still quick and nimble. "I got it. Don't worry. I'm stronger than I look."

Spike felt his blood move even quicker. There was a Harmony look-alike… at least from the back, beginning to creep up on the Slayer. His fist tightened.

"I've had experience with this kind of stuff before. And best of all…"

He raised his voice to shout the warning just as she turned and smashed her fist into the woman's face.

"I'm not stupid," she said sweetly.

His heart sang. "That's the girl," he muttered, grinning, before his smile was quickly wiped off his face. Before his eyes, the not-so-Harmony-look-alike-now-he-could-see-her-face picked his Slayer up and threw her against the wall.

The concrete cracked.

"You sure about that last part?" Evil-bitch-queen asked.

He saw red.

8 8 8

"It's no use," Dawn kicked the door unceremoniously. "We can't get back in."

"Windows?" Daniel asked, his voice still unsteady.

The brunette grimaced, and almost kicked the door again. "I locked them tonight myself. It's times like this I hate the fact that Mum replaced them with shatter-proof glass."

"We've g-g-got to go somewhere," Cassandra whispered faintly. "We c-can't stay out here."

"And we can't really knock on neighbours' doors and ask ourselves in," Dawn said grimly. "So I guess it's to Giles'. He's the closest one from here."

"Yeah…" Daniel let loose a strained, painful laugh. "And it's still at least seven blocks away. With a cemetery in between."

As Cassandra felt another wave of icy fear steal over her again, she couldn't help but stand in silent awe of her friend again.

"Well," Dawn patted her pocket. "It's good that I had a stake on me then, isn't it?"

"Fortuitous," Daniel agreed, an eyebrow raised.

"It's Sunnydale," Dawn shrugged. "What more can I say? Speaking of which… we'd better get started."

_Or we'll give the things that go bump in the night even more chances to start with the munchies_, Cassandra couldn't help thinking.

8 8 8

With a roar, he leapt onto her back without thinking, ready to sink his fangs into her neck. He didn't even have time to feel surprise register at the fact that the chip didn't go off… before he felt his arm being twisted at an incredibly unnatural angle. Howling, he wrenched away desperately, trying to get away before his bloody arm snapped in two like a twig. He needn't have worried. Just before he felt the white-hot pain grow into a shriek, he found himself staring face first at a rapidly approaching stone pillar that was coming closer at around 90 miles an hour.

"Oh shi…"

Impact was nauseating. He'd managed to twist in time to avoid smashing headfirst into the sodding thing, but that meant that his shoulder had copped most of the shock. The pain made his vision blur. Growling,  
Spike span to his feet, regaining his eyesight just in time to see Buffy charge the queen-bitch again and get held aloft in the air.

"The whole 'beat ya to death' thing I'm doing?" he heard her mocking voice ring out over the floor. "It's valuable time out of life that I'm never gonna get back."

Buffy struggled as she tried to break free of the hold choking off her airway. _Too fast…_ she kept thinking blindly. It had all just been too fast, but now as she began to see white spots in front of her eyes, she stopped trying to break free and lashed out, desperately.

"You hit me!" the woman staggered back, and Buffy dropped to her feet, wheezing. "What, are you crazy?"

It was the opening that she hadn't quite been looking for, but she took it anyway. She could see Spike running towards them, fiery gold eyes as furious as she'd ever seen them, and felt a cold, warrior's smile on her face.

They hit the woman at the same time; Spike with a roaring backhand and Buffy with a roundhouse kick to the stomach. Her body snapped back and forth like a lolling marionette, pressing in and out. What should have killed her though, seemed to only offend her.

"You can't go around hitting people," the blonde cried indignantly, elbowing Buffy to the ground and sending Spike spinning back several feet with a flick of her hand. "What, were you born in a barn?"

Spike was still seeing red. As Buffy grabbed her wrist and shoved her into the same column his body had graced only seconds ago, he leapt from the side and impacted… only to find his ankle in an iron grasp and thrown away again.

"Fine," she said petulantly. "Be that way."

In the midst of his pain, he heard Buffy cry out. He didn't think before he charged again. Nobody, but nobody, could hurt his Slayer like that and live.

Even though they were majorly bollocksed.

8 8 8

"Say something," Dawn commanded.

"Huh?" Cassandra looked up surprised. They were walking as fast as they could into the cold of the night; heads down and legs moving so quickly it felt like they would fall off. She would have liked to run, except Dawn had pointed out that their elevated heartbeats would have attracted more attention. The thought in itself was frightening.

"Anything," Dawn's teeth were starting to chatter, despite the fact they were going at a breakneck pace. "It's too quiet. I hate it when it's too quiet."

"Then why don't you say something?" Daniel muttered.

Before Dawn could respond, Cassandra stopped them. "I'm betting that you two starting your fight again will attract attention even more than us running. So don't even think about it."

"I don't understand why we can't just run there," Daniel grumbled, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets, before removing them agitatedly. "We would have been there by now."

"Not quite," Dawn disagreed. The mere mention of what had happened before Buffy had come in had somehow changed their atmosphere of fear into hostility again. Cassandra walked between the two of them like a faltering barrier, but all three of them could feel the anger running rings around all of them. "We would have been eaten by now. Buffy always told me only to run when vamps or demons were already there."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, a low laugh echoed through the empty street.

"Well then… girlie… you three had best start running."


	7. Close Calls

**Chapter 7:**** Close Calls**

**A/N. (****Well, what do you know? It's been a heck of a long time since I updated this fic. I've written another one-shot in that time, I've had the most stressful and fulfilling year in my entire existence (ending high school is bliss**** and here we are now. **

**I'd like to mention once again a special thanks for the people who have reviewed my writing, and for those who have encouraged me to continue with this series. I do like finishing things and I do think now that this series will be finished, but that's only because of all of your encouragement and reviewing. It helps me go on, especially in those nasty dark times when I'm staring at a blank page and wondering what the point of it all is.**

**So this is for you, and all the other people who are still reading me after such a huge break. This is my Christmas present to you. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the chapters to come. **

**I hope you all have a Merry, Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. **

8 8 8

Spike was acutely aware of his right arm. Or more precisely, acutely aware of the bone, and the way it was a breath away from shattering.

He was also rather aware of the fact that the Slayer didn't look any better.

It wasn't by chance that Spike had killed two Slayers and had been one quarter of the Scourge of Europe. The peroxided blonde knew when to run from a fight. He also knew that he really, really didn't want to run from this one. But as he took another lunge at the Barbie only to have her shake him so hard he could swear his undead heart was almost shocked into beating, he grudgingly realised he didn't really have a choice.

"Buffy!" he cried, through a cracked and bleeding lip.

The look that passed between them defied communication. In a flash, Spike was on their adversary, beating and kicking the fas

hion victim for all he was worth. Buffy, limping, ran to untie the monk.

_Gotta keep her distracted… gotta keep her distracted…_

"Who the hell are you, anyway…" He paused, and then his lips curled into a smirk. "Bitch?"

"Hey!" he instantly regretted it when she hit him back with such force it took all of his strength to stay standing. "Watch the bloody coat, woman!"

"How dare you!" she stomped her foot on his, causing him to howl. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to like… hm… _not_ pick on someone who's not only better than you, but who could kick your ass into next Sunday?"

His eyes flashed even more intensely. "My mother taught me to recognise stupid bints like you. Besides… you might be able to kick my incredibly hot butt… but… uh…"

He didn't want to spare a look behind him. He knew the Slayer would do her job. He just also wanted to know whether he'd get out of this undead.

He cracked his head against the pillar when she kicked him again and saw stars. "But I'm cuter than you!"

_Oh yeah, Spike, great tactic…_

"Oh Goddess…" Cassandra whimpered.

The vampires took their time. They had no reason not to. There were four of them, after all. Even with just one of them, the odds wouldn't have looked good.

Fear wet the air like rain as the four idly circled around the three. It was noiseless… unreal. They could have been normal people; three were in baggy jeans, the other in army slacks. Their faces were clean shaven, their jackets sharp and bright. But there were flashes. A hint of a fang there… the darkening of the eyes… Cass, Daniel and Dawn found themselves pressed back to back, teeth gritted against taut lips.

Carlos inhaled deeply and grinned ferally, canines elongating slightly before he pushed them back. "What are three little kids doing out so late at night?" he asked, his voice oddly honeyed. "Are you new to Sunnydale?"

He stopped in front of Cassandra, his eyes kind and gentle as she shrunk back from him. Without warning, he leapt forwards in full gameface.

"Boo!"

With a shriek, she half-toppled backwards.

He'd barely had time to luxuriate in the adrenaline rushing through his body and trying to fend off the intense pain before she was hoisting him up brutally by his collar. As he drew face to face with her, hauled up like a rag doll, Spike instantly regretted his tactics. They'd worked far too well.

"You little…"

"Spike!" Buffy's cry came from across the room. Glory instantly turned, one hand sending Spike catapulting through the air again as she saw what had happened.

"Hey! Get your hands off of my holy man!"

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, since she'd changed her focus so abruptly to focus on Buffy with the monk in her arms, she'd forgotten where the windows were. The shatter of glass and the vampire's pained howl sent Buffy into action. Ignoring the biting pain of her broken ribs, she secured her hold on the monk, prayed, and jumped out after Spike.

…

Impact was harsh and brutal. To the left of her, she heard Spike groan, but when the dust cleared and her eyes stopped blinking, she could see that he was at least upright. She let the wave of relief wash over her and hauled the monk up by his arms.

"Come on… we can make it now…"

He shook his head as more blood dribbled out of his mouth. "Stop… please…"

Buffy carried him towards the gate, knowing that Spike was just behind her. "No, we have to keep going!"

She saw with terror that his eyes were beginning to roll back. "My journey is done, I think."

"Don't get all metaphory on me!" Buffy cried. Turning to Spike behind her, she held out the monk. "Quick, we've got to take him to Giles."

The blonde vampire's face was a mask of pain, but he cradled the man in his arms without a question. "What are you going to do?"

"Protect our backs. She might come after us at any moment."

The monk coughed up blood, and Spike was filled with a sudden, overwhelming hunger. He shut his eyes against it and fought down his demon and every instinct howling within him to take the tiniest of licks…

"Please…" the cowled man choked. "You have to save the Key…"

Spike shifted him in his arms, trying vainly to lessen the smell of blood. Sweet, human blood…

He gritted his teeth to stifle the yelp of pain threatening to escape his lips. Bloody… whatever the soddin' hell she was. "Fine. We can protect the bloody Key together, okay? Just far, bloody far, away from here.

The monk didn't seem to listen. "Please… many more die if you don't keep it safe."

Buffy's head snapped up at that, from where she'd been worriedly surveying the building they'd just rapidly exited. "How? What is it?"

"The Key is energy. It's a portal. It opens the door..."

The flash of a golden orb sounded in both their memories simultaneously. "The Dagon Sphere?" Buffy demanded.

The monk shook his head weakly. "No. For centuries it had no form at all. My brethren… its only keepers. Then the… abomination found us."

He paused, gulping breath into his abused lungs, and Spike heard the fluttering heartbeat in his arms. "Come on, peoples, we can play story time later. We have to get you healed up."

"No," the monk sighed. "I… must… finish…"

"We can't take him to the hospital like this," Buffy's face was white. "We'll have to take him to Giles, or Willow and Tara. They might be able to help him."

"Yeah, the birds might…"

"Please! I don't have much time left…" the monk coughed again. "We… we had to hide the Key, gave it form, moulded it flesh... made it human…"

He looked at Buffy, who was staring at him with a dawning horror on her face.

"And sent it to you…"

Time stretched, and Spike saw realisation flare up on the Slayer's face. The monk was looking intently, sadly, even as his life seeped away through his wounds and the vampire supported him. Growling under his breath with the pain, the bleached blonde was aware of the fact they were still half-walking, half-dragging themselves away from that cursed building when…

"Oh God! Dawn!"

Spike stopped short, the monk still in his arms. "What?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "I… I kicked them all out of the house. And locked the door."

His heart would have stopped. Obviously, it didn't. Or rather, it just kept on… as being… stopped.

"You soddin' went and did _what_?!"

"No time!" she said frantically. "I've got to get back! Anything could have gotten them…"

His eyes turned icy. Shoving the dazed monk at her, he snarled.

"_You_ take priest-boy to Giles. _I_ rescue the Juniors."

Buffy had no time to protest. He was off, gliding in his vampiric speed, and if she hadn't been so disconcerted about the monk in her arms and getting him to Giles and everything that had gone down… she could have sworn that it looked like he were flying.

That night was hell.

've been through hell quite a few times. 've caused it quite a few times myself. The mayhem, chaos… that bloody wonderful feelin' of having the freedom to wreak havoc. Bein' on the receiving side is never a nice thing, though.

And now…

I couldn't get to Revello quickly enough. And when I did, I almost, for a raw second, regretted it. The scent of fear was so strong it burned itself into my brain. Normally, I wouldn't have minded. But this time, I could taste the Juniors in the air, and it seared my gut. I stopped, leaning against the wall of the house to steady myself and my aching body, and sniffed the air, trying to follow their tracks. The scent swam up at me through the sea of fear and panic that swamped the place, the tiniest trace that nevertheless got me pushing off the wall immediately to follow it.

I looked in the direction it went, scanning the surroundings, and swore.

They were going to Giles' place. Giles' place… with a soddin' cemetery in the way?!

I didn't think before I started running, and running hard, praying to someone I didn't believe in and who had never liked me anyway that I wasn't too late. Fear was coursing through _me_ now, and I hated the feeling. It was unnatural, it had no responsibility being there, and it was just plain annoying.

And what the hell had the Slayer been doing, throwing those three out anyway? I tried to quell the anger. Had she gone insane, just like that watchman? But then, I'd known something had been off about her, that cold determination and grace radiating from her skin was a glory to behold, but its intensity had been putting her off her game. But then, even if she and I had been at our best, whoever that Barbie bitch was probably could have still kicked our arses. I couldn't believe it. I still couldn't believe it.

There were too many things going on in my head. In gameface, I scanned the surroundings around me as I ran, searching desperately for any sight of them as I followed the traces of their scent. Giles' place was not far now, but neither was the cemetery, and…

I heard them, just before everything went to hell.

Daniel's face was drained white against the moonbeams that trickled through the cloud covered sky. Carlos moved closer, threateningly, even as the boy stood his ground. Dawn and Cassandra stood behind him at his shoulder, the former carefully beginning to inch the hand holding the stake under her coat to hide it, the latter grasping her thin wooden pencil in readiness.

"Oh just hurry up, Carlos," one of the vamps spat. Daniel blinked his eyes. The spell was broken, and his fingers begin to shake. The vampire who'd been looming over him just a second ago turned and scowled.

"Don't you order me around, Shank. You seem to have forgotten who's the master around here."

The smaller vampire bared his teeth. "Just get on with it, won't you? I'm getting hungry."

"They always taste better with fear," the tallest one murmured, lanky strands of hair covering his dead face. "Carlos is just seasoning them up for us."

"As if they need more seasoning! The air is drenched with their pathetic-ness. Now let's get on with it!"

Dawn didn't wait for whatever was going to happen next. She gathered her breath and then leapt at the nearest vamp with a jump fuelled purely by adrenaline, swinging her stake wildly. Whether it was by a miracle or by some inner instinct born within her blood, the wood contacted with his heart and she only saw his eyes contract for a second in surprise before he burst into dust.

There was a frenzied growl from behind her, and suddenly she was knocked off her feet as the fist of the vampire next to her contacted. She stumbled backwards into the pole of a streetlight, dazed. Cassandra moved to go after her, but her path was blocked suddenly by Carlos, and she screamed as he lunged towards her neck. Daniel's cry of pain echoed behind her in her ears as she ducked under Carlos' outreached hands and drove her pencil into his chest. Thick ropey blood spewed out as the vampire bellowed in pain, but nothing happened. Panicking, she withdrew the pencil and tried to stab again, but he backhanded her across the face before she could move.

Pain blinded her eyes, so she didn't see Dawn get seized by the third vampire, her head wrenched back by a violent hand, her neck exposed. She didn't see Daniel cop a blow to his stomach, doubling him over and leaving him helpless to the second vampire closing in. She only felt dirty nails dig into her shoulder and draw blood, raising her up and tilting back her head…

None of them, human or demon, saw the Master vampire arrive in their midst with a preternatural speed. With a rumbled growl that rippled through his chest, Spike seized the vampire about to bite Dawn and ripped his head clean off his shoulders. As Dawn stumbled and fell amongst the dust, he spun around and kicked the one drinking from Daniel with the momentum from his spin, before lashing out an elbow to knock Carlos off his feet and Cassandra with him.

The air split with the growls of the two vampires left. Spike seized the dazed demon still licking Daniel's blood off his lips and pounded him savagely against the pole of the streetlight, before staking him cleanly through the heart. Then he turned to Carlos, who by now had scrambled to his feet, hauling Cassandra with him.

"Move one foot closer, traitor, and I snap her neck," he growled.

Spike paused, and lifted his glittering eyes up to pin the other vampire with a deadly gaze. "You've got five seconds to run."

There was a brief flash of indecision across Carlos' face, and then he threw Cassandra from him and ran. She sprawled in the grass as a bleach blonde streak raced past her. There was a five second pause of silence, and then the three heard a vampire howl.

Spike had about a second of reprieve as the dust settled around him, before two teenagers were hurtling themselves towards him to bury themselves in the soft folds of his duster. Cursing, he staggered back in surprise and pain. Daniel stepped closer, his arm raised to steady the vampire. Gruffly, Spike nodded in acknowledgement, and then winced as the pressure from Dawn's hug radiated through his shoulder.

Dawn pulled back at that, sudden worry in her face as she took in his injuries. "Spike? You're hurt… what happened?"

The vampire froze, and thought quickly. "Just a little something your sis and I had to clean up," he shrugged lightly. "Nothing that the both of us couldn't beat."

"Really?" Cassandra said slowly, things clicking into place in her mind as she calmed down enough to think. "Spike, you look… bad."

A small smirk twisted at the corner of his lips as Spike raised his eyebrow. "Well, I still managed to save your sorry arses, didn't I? Come on. Let's get back to the house."

They nodded, mutely, exhaustedly, the thought of safety so tempting they didn't notice the unreadable expression on his face as his eyes settled on Dawn.

"Yes, let's get back. Big sis has a lot of questions."


	8. Shifting

**Chapter ****8**** Shifting**

**A/N. (****As promised, here is the next instalment. A little late due to complications such as New Year festivities (no, I didn't get drunk, I never plan to get drunk in my life…) and the fact that I'm juggling two fics at the moment, but here's the next chapter anyway! Since I won't be going away again, the next instalment should also be on time, sometime next week.**

**And now, before we move onto the chapter itself, I'd like to give my thanks to whoever it was who reviewed me under the name of 'blank'. Your message was probably the most important that I've ever received in relation to a fic, so thank you for reminding me about the power and the importance of my story inside me. I've recently re-read both Starlight and what I've written of Starlight II myself, and that has been what has started my fingers itching to type this world out once more. Thank you for your wise words that will stay with me with everything I write, and for everyone else who has reviewed. I write for myself, but I also write for you and everyone else who has followed my stories.**

**So I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

8 8 8

Revello Drive had never looked so comforting, and yet so frightening. Even though she didn't have Spike's nose and supernatural feelings, as Cassandra stepped closer to the doorstep they had vacated only ten minutes ago, she swore she could almost sense the fear that had drenched them here. Tendrils of it still wove around the stone and brick, and at their memory, the image of Buffy with her eyes wide and implacably hard struck her.

She shivered.

"Cass." Daniel's breath misted an inch from her ear.

It was a statement, but she turned around and looked questioningly at him. He was hard to read in the brightness of the porch light. "What?"

"Do you know what's going to happen next?"

She watched as Spike strode up to the front door, his boots silent against the cement path, and shook her head. "I wish I did."

Dawn drew closer, her face shadowed. "Something's happened tonight, and he's not telling us…" she petered off, and then clenched her fists. "And somehow I doubt that my beloved sister will be any more forthcoming."

Cassandra was about to open her mouth to reply with an empty platitude when the door opened a fraction of a second before Spike's hands contacted with the knocker. Buffy emerged from the house, her face pale and drawn, and her eyes searingly hot on Dawn's features. Dawn scowled back at her, angrily and silently.

The Slayer had enough grace to look slightly ashamed, before she stiffened again as she caught sight of Daniel and Cassandra. Instantly she crouched in readiness to fight. Spike looked at her, surprised.

"Slayer?"

"Dawn?" Buffy bit out. "Get inside the house. Now. You too, Spike."

"I don't think so," Dawn stood her ground squarely, hands on her hips. "What the hell is going on, Buffy?"

Spike's gaze flitted back and forth between the two sisters, recognising the pinched stubbornness mirrored on both of their faces, and groaned inwardly. "Slayer? Can't you just let us all inside away from the beasties of the night and then we can talk?"

A sudden remembrance hit him, and he took a step forward. "And what happened? I didn't expect you to be back here so soon. Where's the monk?"

"Dead," Buffy said, her eyes never leaving Cassandra and Daniel. Her voice trembled a little as she kept going. "He died on the way back. I couldn't do anything."

Spike moved instinctively to put a hand on her shoulder before he was knocked back. "But this can all be dealt with later. Get inside. Away from _them_."

With the last word, she looked squarely into Cassandra's eyes, and the girl shrunk back from her. In the harshness of the porch light, it seemed almost as if the Hellmouth itself was reflected in the blackness of the Slayer's pupils. Perhaps it was her fear, but Cassandra couldn't help but remember a long time ago, when she'd stared, fixated, into the television screen, as a chained girl pulled at her bonds and screamed as a demon merged with her to form the Slayer.

"Buffy."

It was the Slayer who started this time as Spike's low, rough tones voiced her name. A firm hand clasped down on her shoulder, and the vampire turned her towards him. "Buffy," he repeated, just as low, never losing contact with her suddenly wide and vulnerable eyes. "Slayer. What is going on?"

"I…" Buffy put her hand on the doorframe and rested against it, as if exhausted. It was only then that they saw her coil slightly against her stomach, and Cassandra knew then without a doubt what had happened.

"Okay. Inside then," Buffy said wearily. The fight seemed to have drained out of her, but as they passed, she stared so keenly at Cassandra and Daniel they felt hollow inside.

The living room reached out and enfolded them in its warm arms as they entered, and with a sigh of relief, the tension that had kept Dawn upright and stubborn vanished. Within seconds, she was curled up on the couch, luxuriating in the feeling of safety and familiarity. Cassandra and Daniel hesitantly followed in her footsteps, but just as they'd managed to sink into the softness of the seat they were squarely confronted again by a determined Slayer.

"Who are you, and what do you want with my family?"

Daniel started back. "W-what are you talking about, Buffy?" he swallowed once, and then continued without the stammer. "I thought this got cleared up ages ago," he forced lightness into his voice. "Cass and I… we're the ones with a strange prophecy attached to us by the Powers that have no sense of rhythm whatsoever. And from what it says, I guess we're here to help. For whatever reason."

Cassandra bit her lip at the uncertainty in his voice and knew why it was there. How could two teenagers with no special powers whatsoever help the best Slayer the world had ever seen? It just didn't make sense. And the prophecy didn't help, as convoluted as it was. "Why are you even asking this, Buffy?" she asked timidly, already knowing the answer. "What happened? Was it… something to do with before when you were acting strange?"

The petite Slayer's lips turned downwards and compressed. "Yes."

"Well, don't stop there," Spike said impatiently as he lowered himself into an armchair. As his gaze flitted from the Juniors' faces to the Slayer's, he began slotting in every scattered piece of information he had managed to gleam into place. His eyes narrowed as he realised how uncharacteristic the semi-completed jigsaw appeared. "What's this all about, Slayer?"

Buffy struggled with herself, briefly, and then answered. Her eyes were still hard as she swept the two teenagers in front of her. "I found the perfectly sane security guard yesterday doing an incredibly realistic impersonation of an absolutely crazy guy today. But he told me things. He said that they'd come at me through my family. Mum's been getting her headaches again."

"Come off it, Slayer," Spike's words jarred with his oddly gentle tone. "You know Mum's been feelin' a bit down after the operation, but the doctor's said that's expected."

"But he _said_ it," Buffy's eyes took on a troubled, faraway gaze. "And so I had to try. I had to at least try."

There was a silence as they breathed and their hearts beat out of time and Buffy turned away. No one noticed Dawn's suddenly murderous eyes.

"Had to try _what_?" Spike demanded, his voice suddenly dangerous.

"Giles told me," Buffy said softly, still looking away from them as if she were somewhere else completely. "A trance state where I could see traces of magic, of energy. There was nothing on Mum. Nothing. But…"

She stopped then, and suddenly she was back in her body, back in the living room, and back into Slayer mode. "But there was something on you two. Something that gives me every reason to think you should stay the _hell_ away from my family."

Before Daniel or Cassandra could even react, Dawn pounced, her voice high and accusing. "You're not telling us everything. You saw something else, didn't you? You saw something in me."

Buffy's battle stance slackened. "Dawnie, I…"

"Don't you dare lie to me," Dawn hissed as she leapt off the couch and stalked up to her sister. "After everything you've done today, don't you _dare_ lie to me. I'm not stupid you know. You knocked the other two out, but you saw something in me that made you even more scared and angry than Cassandra and Daniel together."

Buffy straightened and glared. "Stay out of this Dawn. This is about Cassandra and Daniel."

"No it's not!" Dawn yelled furiously. "It's about me! Or at least the three of us together! You kind of gave it away when you threw _all_ of us out, idiot!"

"Hey!" Spike sprung up between the two of them just as it looked as if Dawn might abandon all self-control and attempt to throttle her sister. "Settle down, Nibblet. It's been a bad night, so let's not make it any worse, eh?"

Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but Spike spoke again before she could. "And you, Slayer…" he studied her stubborn-set face, beautiful and hard in her rigid defiance. "You could have the decency to tell all of us what happened."

"_Decency_?" Buffy's voice went up several octaves. "As if _you_ can talk about decency! You're the most infuriating, irritating, and, and… just plain _rude_ vampire that I've ever met"

"Cut me deep, pet," Spike's face was expressionless. "But you're not answerin' the bloody question."

Things were beginning to spiral out of control. Cassandra looked at all of the pinched, angry faces around her and saw the fear behind each one. And with that recognition she closed her eyes in frustration, only to see an image flash up so bright against her eyelids that she recoiled. It was only there for an instant, but one instant was enough.

Cassandra stood up then, a resolution born into her so strong and so fierce that it almost hurt.

"I know what you saw," she said quietly, and she did not quaver at the suddenly stricken Slayer's face. "And if _you_ can't, _I_ will tell them."

8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8

"She's here."

Kyrel swung around from her endless pacing to stare at the young girl sitting cross-legged on the stone floor. Her eyes were closed, her light brown hair floating gently around her shoulders. She would have looked almost beatific if it hadn't been for the demonic smile that had just split her features.

Suddenly, she was moving. Pale unlined flesh stretched impossibly over tight knuckles, and then the girl was up, her diabolic smile widening, her eyes open and gleaming with eldritch flame. As always, Kyrel was torn between joining this dark mistress in her dance, prostrating herself on the floor before this one who had given her such power, and doing nothing in a vain attempt to reaffirm a nonexistent independence.

Thess didn't seem to have any such issues. From where the female vampiress had been licking the still-bleeding wound of their latest prey, she unwound with a supernatural grace and began languidly swaying to the same unspoken beat that the young girl was twirling to. Kyrel watched both of them, frozen in indecision and suspicion.

"W-wait," she called out.

Immediately, the young girl froze. With a black air of inhuman irritation, she slowly turned around and faced the ridiculously powerful fledgeling and scowled, the black eldritch flame rising up in her eyes. Kyrel cursed inwardly at the apprehension that had trembled her voice and at the misplaced confidence which had inspired it. She should have known better than to disturb the Mistress, the Source of all the power, the Bringer of silence and death.

Through the scowl, the young girl's features seemed to change slightly. Her skin elongated along her face in strange ripples, as if something inside was shifting. Mottled blotches of colour appeared on those incredibly pale cheeks; icy blues and poisonous greens that had no place on any living creature. The force that Kyrel had been exerting to rebel against her natural instinct to prostrate herself before her Mistress vanished under her gaze, and the vampiress threw herself down on the floor, still trembling. "I… I'm sorry, I…"

"No," the voice was inhuman now; low, cold, and strangely alien now to Kyrel's sensitive ears. "Speak, you have spoken already."

"I… who is this 'she' you speak of?" Kyrel spoke to the stone beneath her, still afraid to raise her head. "I r-remember when you spoke of other arrivals. But those were with a-anger. You speak now with joy. I… I wish to know…"

She could not see, but Kyrel could almost picture in her mind the young girl's lips being drawn back over her teeth, distorting that pretty face, until self-control resumed. She dared not look up as a low chuckle echoed throughout the entire cavern, seeming to come from every corner in a crescendoing cacophony.

"Who is this 'she'?" the terrible voice resounded across the stone. "It is one who will cancel out the three. It is one who will prove beyond a doubt our greatest ally. It is one who will descend this world into a chaos so sweet I can feed…"

The thing in the young girl paused, and then smiled. The cavern seemed to brighten a little again, and Kyrel slowly looked up from the floor. The mistress looked back at the vampiress and kept smiling. In a completely normal, girlish tone, she spoke again.

"She is Glorificus. And she shall bring us the Icari, and gift me with the truth of the Silent Death once more."

8 8 8 8 8 8 8

"What are you playing at, Slayer?" Spike's eyes were granite. "I didn't save the Juniors just so you could almost kill them again."

Dawn was back on the couch, her face white and her knuckles taut in confusion as Buffy regarded the vampire blocking her way to Cassandra and Daniel with grim resolution. "Get out of my way, Spike."

"Listen to yourself!" he cried out in exasperation. "Have you forgotten we're all on the same bloody side, you daft bint? Look, whatever you saw, it doesn't change the fact that Platelet helped save your life by warning us about old Drac coming, or that Junior's been pullin' his weight around by takin' care of Giles."

"You want to know what I saw?" Buffy demanded. "I'll tell you, and then you can make your judgement on whether it changes the facts or not! I saw…"

"You saw your sister fading in and out before you, and everything you knew about her along with it."

Everyone paused. Spike swung around. Cassandra's eyes were transfixed in a golden light, her hands semi-outstretched to the air as she spoke in a voice that wasn't hers. Buffy's open mouth slowly shut. The dark-haired teenager didn't even register that she was now the complete centre of attention, because she wasn't registering anything.

"You saw two youths transform before you, like mist over water, into an owl and a snake and then back again. You thought of evil magic but did not stop to consider a path not unlike your own."

Her hollow, almost transcendent words continued, sounding at once like only one voice, and yet also the voices of a million people speaking behind her, male and female, human and demon.

"You saw all your memories of a sister, all your memories of your past placed in question. For there was green emptiness where there should have been flesh and blood of your own."

The golden light that had been shining out of Cassandra's face slowly dimmed. The otherworldly voice grew softer, weaker, and the girl started to sway on her feet with the pressure.

"You saw the Power of the Ancient and the Companion of the Singers. You saw reality and dreams call, and you didn't know which one to answer. You saw the products of time bending and chose…"

Entranced in the spell of listening to that strange voice emanating from Cassandra's mouth, only Daniel was quick enough to react when the golden light suddenly vanished completely and his friend collapsed. Before her limp body hit the ground, he was cradling her in his arms and laying her gently down on the carpet, awe and confusion warring across his face.

With her collapse, the enchantment was broken. Buffy and Spike moved to help even as Dawn leapt to her friend's side. As Cassandra slowly blinked, unseeing, and tried to struggle upwards to sit on her elbows, Dawn's fingernails left dents in her own skin.

"_Why_?"

There was no sound after that plaintive call. Cassandra blinked slowly, and then shifted painfully upwards to sit against Daniel's steadying arm. Her eyes were almost black as she registered the question, and the words came out as a whisper. "Maybe… maybe we're not real here."

Daniel turned his head and snorted. "Tonight's near-death experience was real enough for me."

Cassandra swallowed, and Spike caught the rough bobbing of her Adam's apple. "You're real enough for me to smell the blood in your veins, Platelet," he said, the odd gentleness creeping back into his voice. "You're real and alive. Just because the Slayer is seein' funny things doesn't mean you're not."

His bright blue eyes fixated on Dawn, shrunken on the floor, her hands locked around her friend's arm and her hair covering her face. "Same goes for you, Platelet. All three of you are alive and real. Solid enough to bite. Doesn't matter what a crazy guy or the Slayer says. I can hear your heartbeats just as solidly as anyone's."

"You… you mean it?" Dawn looked up hopefully.

"Would I say it if I didn't?" he snorted.

The three of them raised their eyebrows almost simultaneously, and Spike sighed and threw up his hands. "Can't a Big Bad get some peace here without anyone questionin' his motives?" he complained.

It broke the mood. "You're not exactly the Big Bad any more," Dawn needled, a wicked grin appearing out of nowhere to transform her laughing face.

"I so bloody am," he retorted indignantly. "Didn't you _see_ me take out those three vamps in under ten seconds? An' me with a few flesh wounds already?"

"Yeah, but you were taking out _vamps_," Daniel chuckled. "And that has 'white hat' scribbled all over it."

"Plus, you took them out to save us," Cassandra blinked up at the suddenly gobsmacked vampire, faux-innocence drenched in her tone. "And that was just such a _good_ thing to do…"

Buffy looked back and forth at the three suddenly cheerful teenagers and the spluttering Master vampire and wondered when things had gotten so difficult. Her head hurt. She was supposed to find the evil things and slay the evil things. Even more conveniently, the evil things usually had bright markers like fangs and a ridged face telling her that they were evil.

She was pretty sure that the Slayer's handbook Giles had never showed her had nothing about what to do if you saw your sister and her two friends fading in and out, replaced by some sort of mystical emerald energy and the hazy images of a snake and an owl. She'd be surprised if _any_ handbook told you what to do in that situation.

She was about to open her mouth and vent her exasperation when the shrill ringing of her cell phone broke through even the good-natured bickering in front of her. Annoyed, she swung it open with a decent degree of violence.

"Hello?" she snapped into the receiver.

"Buffy?"

Giles' voice sounded oddly tinny and strained over the line, and she quelled her rising anger to digest it. "What's wrong?"

There was a pause and a crackle, and then her Watcher spoke again. "It seems the Council has decided to pay us a visit," he said stiffly. Her ears pricked, and the sliding of chairs and clinking of teacups in the background of Giles' voice hit her. "They've requested that we all meet at the Magic Box immediately."

Her eyes narrowed. "By all do you mean…?"

"Yes," she couldn't see him fish for the cloth he normally used to wipe clean his glasses, but she could imagine it. "Spike as well. Oh, and Cassandra and Daniel too."

Her voice sharpened. "I'm not leaving Dawn alone in the house."

Dawn started from the couch. "Save it, Buffy," she snapped. "I'm safe now, seeing as, for the moment, my crazy sister hasn't thrown me _outside_."

"Surely Joyce is home…"

"Not yet."

Giles looked heavenward. "Buffy. Dawn is fifteen years old now. I'm sure she can survive by herself for one or two hours in a locked and protected house."

Her mind rushed through everything that had happened that night. The visions of her sister replaced by a shimmering column of emerald green energy and the morphing of Cassandra and Daniel into unknown shapes and faces. The strange woman/demon/whatever who had managed to trounce both the Slayer and a Master Vampire. The monk and his moaned confession of Dawn's true heritage.

All events which screamed out that Dawn should definitely _not_ be left alone that night for any reason whatsoever. But for some reason, an inner voice pushing gently against her ribcage spoke differently. Buffy closed her eyes in frustration and opened them again, not sure whether to trust her gut or her reason.

There was one brief moment of turmoil, and then, against her better judgement, the Slayer's lips thinned. "Fine. But this meeting better not take too long."


	9. Review

**Chapter ****9**** Review**

**A/N. (****Yep. That's right. I'm actually on time and on schedule this week. does the snoopy dance. Pretty incredible, huh?**

**Well anyway, not much to say here really except that I'm definitely getting back into this fic again, which is good news for frequent updates:). Thanks very much to Kim for reviewing! I've added in the scene breaks again, although they were actually there previously, it's just that the document formats here at don't seem to like me using asterisks, so I've reverted back to the trusty old 8 8 8. I hope that helps your eyes and your understanding!**

**And now, without further ado, onto the chapter. I hope you all enjoy. : ). And as always, any constructive criticism is mucho appreciated.**

8 8 8

Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose with his right forefinger and thumb as he leaned against the counter of the Magic Box. The primary table in the centre of the store was currently occupied by seven Watchers, most of them sipping tea and peering over thick rims at the multitude of books on display.

Really, there was no need for such a number, he thought sourly. But then, he couldn't really expect Quentin Travers to travel without an entourage of sorts. His unfocused gaze swept across the gathered group with a degree of annoyance, tempered by apprehension. He recognised Quentin of course. There were four others he thought he recognised as well; Nigel the old weapons instructor, Colbert and Cameron the senior Watchers, and the blonde Linda who had once sought his resources for her thesis on William the Bloody… his mouth quirked in a slight grin at that memory. Spike would be flattered, he was sure. As recent events clouded his mind, however, he frowned. Despite her fresh-faced naiveté, perhaps she had been onto something. With the recent revelations as well as his changes of late, Giles was certain that the bleached blonde vampire was indeed a worthy cause for study. Or at least, in his case, for first-hand observation.

His musings on Spike, which had grown both understandably and disturbingly since the vampire's defection to their side against Adam, were cut short at his more insistent curiosity about the identities of the last two. He had only been out of the Council loop for two years, surely no one new could have risen so far in the ranks for them to be eligible to accompany the Head Watcher so soon. But yet, he was certain he had never seen them before.

The group of Watchers did not stir as Giles finally settled his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and directed his surreptitious glances towards these fresh new faces. One was a dour young man, clad in the stiff tweed suit of a man twice his age. His thick blonde-brown hair lay clustered around his temples and the sides of his head, and the turn of his mouth suggested that his face bore a sneer of contempt more often than not. Giles disliked him instantly. The other, however, bore a startling contrast. She was probably about the same age as the young man, but her sharp, modern black jacket and skirt ensemble was livened by a crisp light blue shirt and a cascade of black hair framing piercing eyes.

Giles' eyes suddenly darted towards the oblivious Head Watcher sipping his tea. There was the greyish hair clinging to his temples, black eyelashes decorating piercing eyes. There was a slight depression on Travers' cheeks indicating an old habit of the sneer, but the most prominent lines around his mouth were now smooth curves upwards depicting a smile. Giles quickly switched his gaze back to the woman, just in time to catch a quirky grin as she glimpsed something in his shop that amused her.

It couldn't be.

Swiftly, Giles cast his mind back to when they had first arrived, walking into his shop like they had owned both it and him. He frowned again at the memory. They had given him his orders to contact the rest of them, refusing to state their intent or their reason for coming here. They had then made their tea using his supplies from the back room, sat down, and engaged in some small talk with him for a while. At least they hadn't come in during the daytime and disturbed his customers, he thought briefly, but then got back to the task at hand. Vaguely, he remembered Quentin introducing the two passingly, but he couldn't quite recall…

"Rupert Giles?"

Her voice was warm, and he started out of his thoughts as the woman approached him, her hand outstretched. Dumbfounded, he took it, wondering where on Earth this was leading to.

"Yes?"

Perhaps his voice had been a bit peremptory. He winced, and then stiffened. Really, could they blame him after surprising him like this? He'd known the Council had meant to visit since their last call, but they had neither set a date nor contacted him again before literally showing up on the doorstep of the Magic Box. Quite rude, really.

"I just wanted to say that I like what you've done with this place. I've heard reports that this establishment used to be rather… dangerous, to say the least. It looks like you've cleaned it up quite nicely."

"Why, thank you," Giles stuttered, even more confused now. "I've tried to make this place befit its location. We monitor what we sell, as well as who we sell it to, and generally we just try to make Sunnydale a safer place for both those who practice the magic arts as well as those who are still oblivious and looking only for a few arthouse pieces… as well as running a conscientious business of course."

"So this is how you make your money now you've betrayed us?" Giles flicked his startled gaze to the young man, now standing and examining the contents of the shelves with a critical eye. "How fitting."

Before Giles could open his mouth and deliver a cutting retort, the woman's cheeks flushed red and her lips tightened. "Pay no attention to my cousin," she said tightly. "He has no appreciation for the good that you've done here, seeing as he has never bothered to properly read the reports we've been sent."

Giles opened his mouth to reply again, perhaps to offer some comforting statement for a woman like her having to put up with such an obvious prick, before he was interrupted again. Her eyes sparkled suddenly with a sudden mischief, and she leaned in closer, speaking in an exaggerated stage whisper so that everyone present could hear.

"Between you and me, Mr. Giles, I actually question whether he has the capacity to even read."

There was a silence, and then a few snickers that Giles couldn't help but echo. The look on the young ponce's face was priceless. "That's it, Elspeth! You've been needling me this entire trip, completely unprovoked! Uncle, I demand you do something for _once_!"

"Father, Fredrick was clearly disobeying your orders not to bring the past up until you spoke to Mr. Giles and the Slayer privately," Elspeth arched her brow. "You can't blame me for putting him in his place. And he left himself so open."

Before Giles' amazed eyes, the Head Watcher cast his gaze to the heavens and demonstrated an eye-roll worthy of Buffy at her best. "Both of you, just desist. Surely after being at it the entire plane trip you can find it within yourselves to have some self-control until the Slayer and the others arrive?"

Giles read the unspoken words in the other man's gaze with amusement. _Just to give us a bit of peace?_

"But Uncle! Why must we wait? We've been here for at least fifteen minutes, and the Slayer still hasn't arrived! She should be here when we call! What if this were an urgent apocalypse? Is this how the Slayer works? As an undisciplined, tardy child"

A bell tinkled.

"Someone call my name?" Buffy asked dryly.

8 8 8

It was dizzying. They had trooped out the door one by one, leaving her behind, Cassandra and Daniel looking guilty, Spike expressionless, Buffy stepping outside last to impart few last words of warning; to take care of herself and lock the door behind them and only to answer it if she was sure it was one of the Scoobies… words she had heard a million times before.

Or had she?

"_You saw all your memories of a sister, all your memories of your past placed in question…"_

Dawn shook her head, looked once more at their backs as they faded away into the distance and the night, and then turned abruptly away. Slowly, she walked into the living room as if it were a dream, turning off the main room light and leaving the house bathed in the semi-darkness granted by the dim glow from the kitchen. Then, she collapsed onto the sofa once more, closing her eyes and pressing herself against its comforting solidity.

"_You saw your sister fading in and out before you, and everything you knew about her along with it."_

What was happening? What did everything mean? She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, to stop the echoes of Cassandra's inhuman voice from reverberating in her ears. But all that sucked into her lungs was a quick, hyperventilated gasp that only seemed to heighten her turmoil.

"_You're not my sister."_

Buffy's voice now. Hard and brutal and damaging. Merging in with all the other memories. Or were they fake as well? Fading in and out… that must have been what they meant. Memories of the past placed in question. Buffy's voice echoed along with Cassandra's, and Dawn squeezed herself tighter together, curling into the foetal position so she could feel her knees clasped against her chest and her breath radiating in and out and all the signs, the irrefutable, _irrefutable_ signs that she was _there_.

"_I don't think you're good enough! Hah! We don't even know whether you're __**real**__!"_

Daniel now too. Had it been fear in his voice, in his oh-so-familiar voice that she could dimly recall through her confusion also laughing and joking and talking about school… and just being a normal friend? Or was it just the bitterness and anger that had been boiling between them?

But then, he had known what he was talking about. Lucidity shot through Dawn like a painful bolt of lightning and she sat up, still curled, her eyes suddenly open. In the semi-darkness of the living room, the light from the kitchen cast a glow onto her irises. Daniel had said 'we'. He'd said 'we', so he must have meant him and Cassandra together. And with Cass, loveable little, timid little Cass going all seer-y and trance-y lately… that had to mean something.

Dawn curled tighter into herself and felt her own heartbeat throb through her ribs and her body. She was real. She was real, she had to be. She could feel it all; flesh, bone, blood. And if she had that, then it didn't matter what everyone else said. Her sister and friends could have been wrong. All wrong…

"_All three of you are alive and real. Solid enough to bite. Doesn't matter what a crazy guy or the Slayer says. I can hear your heartbeats just as solidly as anyone's."_

Spike's calming, rough, gravely tones. They counterbalanced the others and she felt herself uncurling slightly. She was real, she _was_. If Spike could feel her, then she _had_ to be real. Or at least something.

But then, was it really a question of whether she was real or not? Her breath turned shallow again.

"_For there was green emptiness where there should have been flesh and blood of your own_."

Her skin was clammy. She curled tighter again and tried to ignore the voices even as part of her desperately listened, trying to sift through each memory and find the common thread, to sort out what on the Hellmouth was going on.

Something wasn't right. That in itself was obvious enough. But something wasn't right with _her_, and that scared her. What had Buffy said?

_What are you?_

Well it was pretty obvious, right? A head, check. Two arms and a torso, check. Two legs, check. Humanoid appearance, check. So she was a human, normal, like the rest of them. There was nothing physically about her to suggest otherwise…

"_Giles told me… a trance state where I could see traces of magic, of energy…"_

Dawn's eyes squeezed shut.

"_Any idea what this evil looks like?"_

Her eyes snapped open.

8 8 8

Buffy cast her gaze across the Watchers assembled in front of her slowly and deliberately as the rest of her friends filed in behind her, Cassandra and Daniel sneaking in at the back.

"Well, I guess some things just haven't changed, have they?" she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Hello Buffy," Quentin raised his teacup to her. "It's good to see you again."

"Oh, yeah?" Buffy retorted, caught off guard at his mildness. "Well it sure isn't good to see you again. What's up this time?"

"An exhaustive examination of your procedures and abilities," Fredrick declared from the back, his face slightly less purple now as he observed the tiny Slayer with disdain. "We have information about Glory. Pass the review and we give it to you without reservation. Fail the review, either through incompetence or by resisting our recommendations…"

"Resisting your recommendations?" Giles moved towards him angrily. "She fails if we don't do whatever you say! How much under your thumb do you think we are?"

"Fredrick, Giles…"

They both ignored the Head Watcher. "I think your absence from our circles has weakened your memory, Mr. Giles," Fredrick sneered, bitingly. "The Council fights evil. The Slayer is the instrument by which we fight. The Council remains, the Slayers change. It's been that way from the beginning."

"Well, that's a very comforting, bloodless way of looking at it, isn't it?" Giles asked scornfully.

"It is merely the truth," the man drew himself up pompously. "We must review her skills, strategies, and battle plans before we can give her this sensitive information about Glory. We need to know if she can handle it…"

"You have no idea how close I am to proving how much I can handle things, Mr. Council-Man," Buffy hissed. "But for the moment, I'm going to forgive you and ask you one thing. Who the hell is Glory?"

Another silence.

Fredrick lifted his hands up in triumph. "And thus I am proved right!" he crowed. "Do you hear that, Elspeth? The Slayer you always praise hasn't even encountered the abomination that has been lurking on the Hellmouth for the last few days!"

"Fredrick!" Travers' voice lashed out like a whip. "Enough!"

One of the old Watchers stirred. "You shame us all with your unseemly behaviour."

"Unseemly?! I speak the truth!"

"Or your warped version of the truth!"

"Elspeth!"

"Father, how long will this have to go on? He's embarrassing us every time he speaks!"

"_You're_ the embarrassing one, silver-tongued wench! Whispering ideas into your father's head, pulling strings…"

"FREDRICK!"

As the Watchers descended into chaos before their eyes, a spark leapt into Spike's head. "Wait, the abomination?" he looked sharply at Buffy. "Pet, if I'm not mistaken, that's what the monk called the bitch we were facin' off against before."

"So that's her name. Glory." Buffy thinned her lips and a look passed between the Slayer and the vampire. _Dawn. _"Well. Information about her is good. Very good. And by the way," she said loudly as she threw a disgusted look at the young Watcher in front of her, breaking the argument in front of them, "The Slayer _has _encountered this abomination-y thing. Tonight, actually."

"Buffy?" Giles asked in dismay. "You didn't tell me…"

Quentin Travers' weary gaze flitted from his red-faced entourage, to Buffy, to Giles, to Spike, to the Scoobies, and then back again to Buffy. "I see we have a lot to discuss."

"Damn straight," Spike's lips curled. "Just why do you ponces need to put the Slayer through this 'exhaustive review' of yours before we get this information? I'd say that's damn short-sighted of you if this Glory bint is as much trouble as you seem to make out."

"The review was the old plan," Travers shot a black look at Fredrick before continuing. "We had discussed already, although it seems as if one wasn't listening, for a new plan. At the moment, we merely seek to have a display of Buffy's powers before we continue. No conditions, no blackmailing, no hidden agendas."

"Surely her actions of averting five apocalypses so far speak for her abilities louder than any demonstration?" Elspeth demanded before anyone else could cut in. Her eyes were stormy with anger, channelled directly towards her pasty-faced cousin, and Giles couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for her. As well as marvel. It was clear that since he had been gone, there had been some major changes in the way that the Council worked.

Quentin surveyed everyone mildly. "I don't doubt Buffy's prowess, but I am interested to see how your abilities have grown since the last time we properly monitored you. It will help us to plan for what is ahead. Nigel, if you please?"

Buffy looked up at the Council weapons-master, all six foot five of him that towered above her head, packed with muscle, hard-honed discipline, and skill. And she laughed.

"Oh, please. Save yourselves a hospital bill. If you want to see how much I kick ass, my perfect sparring partner's already here."

The look she shot across the space between her and Spike was unmistakeable. The people from the Council watched in surprise. The Scoobies looked on in interested resignation. Cassandra and Daniel smiled at each other.

"Perfect?" Spike's grin lighted up his face. "I'm flattered, Slayer."

The look she tossed across her shoulder was intoxicating. "Well, your ass is perfect to kick all across the training room, you big pussy-cat."

"Oooh," the vampire purred, smirking. "I want to hear you say that in the ring, Slayer."

"Oh I will," Buffy grinned back. "Come and catch me."

The seven Watchers watched, dumbfounded, as the blonde pair suddenly streaked across the room in a manner of seconds, leaving a trail of papers fluttering free in their passage. The Scoobies smiled at each other hesitantly. Cassandra and Daniel raised their eyebrows.

"Well, shall we adjourn to the training room?" Giles asked lightly.


	10. Jigsaw Pieces

**Chapter ****10**** Jigsaw Pieces**

**A/N. (****Eh, apologies. One day late. But still, given my previous record with updates, I'd say it's not too bad this time, yes? **

**Thanks to Kim for her review; the Council visit is indeed very different this time, and yes, mostly due to Elspeth. I haven't quite decided if Lydia should drool so obviously over Spike this time… I have my own plans for dear old Spike in the next few chapters that hopefully you'll all enjoy. Let's just say things might be turning out a little more Spuffy, a little more quickly now : ). **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And as always, constructive criticism and reviews are much appreciated. **

8 8 8

Perfect. Her voice sang in his head and he grinned almost animalistically as he dodged, countered, and sprung to the attack again. She was perfect. They were perfect.

This was perfect.

She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, arms at the ready just below her beautiful smile. He smirked back at her as they circled each other, every step a light touch upon the ground before moving on, ever ready to…

Pounce. He leapt forwards with an experimental jab to the face. She blocked it easily, tossing his hand away and moving in close to flip him over his hip. Rolling with her, he sprung to his feet a meter away and launched himself into a series of spin kicks, forcing her backwards from the centre of the room towards the assembled audience. Just before it seemed he might break through her balance, she nimbly dodged forwards and broke the pattern, scissoring her own legs against his and bringing him crashing to the ground. He snarled appreciatively through his grin, and then lunged for her again.

"Why isn't his chip firing?" Xander whispered, his eyes wide as he saw the two warriors blurring across wide expanse of the training room. "I mean, he's attacking her, isn't he?"

Giles' keen ears pricked, even as he watched his Slayer and the vampire in fascination. "Yes," he muttered uncomfortably. "I'd like to know why Spike isn't feeling the effects of the chip as well."

"It's because he's consciously making the decision not to hurt her," Cassandra piped up, just as Spike roared in seeming annoyance and threw himself at the Slayer. With a mischievous twist to her lips, Buffy dodged him once more, showing off her incredible speed, before moving in with a hard roundhouse kick of her own.

Spike went flying.

"He's consciously making the decision not to hurt her?" Giles demanded, astonished. He resisted the urge to peel off his glasses, clean them, and take another look. "He appeared fairly intent on causing her bodily damage with that last attack!"

"It's just a dance…" Daniel finally realised, slowly, as Buffy streaked towards the fallen Spike with blinding speed. "They're just dancing."

Cassandra smiled, and couldn't help herself. "That's all they've ever done."

Willow and Tara looked at her strangely, but Anya smiled as if she understood and linked arms with the still gaping Xander.

Spike didn't move as the Slayer approached. He was still and crumpled against the wall that he'd been thrown against, and for a moment Daniel worried. But then, even as Buffy raised her hand to flip him over and initiate the fake staking action, Spike raised his head.

Lydia screamed.

Fredrick let out a rather unmanly squeal.

Quentin Travers rolled his eyes.

In gameface, Spike coiled smoothly to his feet, just in time to throw out a punch. Buffy didn't blink. With half a second to go before her forehead connected with his fist, she'd twisted her body to the right, ran up the wall using her momentum, and somersaulted to Spike's right. Only she was close enough to see him still grinning at her through his elongated fangs. He spun around and unleashed a low kick to her legs, but she jumped over it easily and dove forwards with a low punch to his abdomen. He twisted, but she grazed him and the force of her blow was still enough to make him stagger back and break his stance. With a victorious grin, she moved forwards with the intent of a predator, but Spike just managed to duck his head under her finishing punch, coming up from underneath her. He grasped her arm tightly, digging in nails slightly elongated from his demonic transformation and wrenched her around.

Collectively, the audience winced.

But they'd reacted too soon. Instead of the Slayer's shoulder popping out of its socket, she pushed into the move, launching herself forwards in a graceful dive roll across the floor and sending Spike flying. Again.

Giles shook his head in incredulity.

It had been a while since he had accompanied his Slayer on her patrols. And although they had been training together like normal, he didn't think he'd seen Buffy like this before, unleashed, her entire body caught up in the joy and rush of the fight as she and Spike spun around each other like moths drawn irresistibly to the flame.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Tara murmured.

He didn't spare her a glance, so rapt was he in studying his Slayer's moves. "Yes, quite."

Cassandra smiled slightly at the two, remembering the hours she had spent enraptured in front of the television screen, watching the blonde pair in front of her dance in their eternal fight. She turned away for a moment to sneak a look at Daniel, just to see how he was taking this raw display of power. His mouth hung agape and his eyes were slightly glassy. She couldn't help but giggle a little at his expression.

By the time she turned back, it was over. Buffy straddled Spike, pinning his hips down to the ground beneath hers and holding her hand to his chest in an imitation of a stake. Spike was panting under her, seemingly spent, while the Slayer appeared as if she had barely broken a sweat. There was a cheeky grin of triumph decorating her face, and if the observers had been at the correct angle, they would have seen the look of quiet adoration shining from Spike's.

Perhaps it was lucky. Xander might have died from a heart attack. As chance would have it, however, Buffy chose at that moment to glance down into the naked eyes of her sparring partner. Everyone watched as her smile faltered and changed to a perfect 'o', before a faint tinge of red brushed her cheeks and she scrambled off him. Once she was up, she hesitantly offered a hand and pulled him to his feet. They stood in an awkward silence for a moment, before the atmosphere was broken by the sound of Quentin's hands clapping together.

"Capital," the Head Watcher murmured. "Quite capital. It appears you have trained her well in our absence, Rupert."

Giles coughed. "Indeed. Well, Buffy is far more than she seems, that is for certain."

"Be that as it may," a sullen voice sounded from the edge of the group. "She's not good enough."

8 8 8

If anyone else had been there, they would have recognised the eerie look set upon Dawn's face as a mirror of the resolve that settled on Buffy's countenance every time the Apocalypse reared its head again. The younger Summers sat within a semi-circle of books, all flicked open to various pages, her eyes darting from one to the next.

"The Old Ones," she read out aloud, and then frowned. "The Icari," she read off another. "Dammit, why can't they just have 'green energy' in the stupid index," she muttered. "That would just make things so much easier…"

Typically, just as she felt the need to voice that comment, her eyes fell upon the book immediately to her left. The word 'emerald' leapt out at her, and she eagerly snatched it up and found the page number. But her elation quickly died down as she kept on reading.

"… power to stop the ritual." She frowned again and turned to the page beforehand to find the beginning of the sentence, but discovered that someone with a careless inksplot had managed to blot most of it from her view. She frowned again, and then flipped back to the page to keep reading.

"Within the ritual, the shell is given greater strength and solidity. It must take place upon the Hellmouth, but only at certain dates in the lunar calendar, to be referred to in Table CXII in the appendices. When all the conditions are met, the vessel is made stronger, the Host more powerful, and the path to reawaken the Silent Death within is begun."

Dawn sucked in her breath and wondered how Giles could remain sane with such cryptic texts. If these were the tomes he consulted to make sense of prophecies, she couldn't understand how he could even hope to find any answers before he first found something to decipher these.

"The Silent Death? How is all of this even connected…?"

Even as she grumbled, Dawn was scanning the index again. The mass of words seemed to blur in front of her, but she blinked impatiently and kept going. It had to be here somewhere. Even if it just referred her back to the same place.

"Page 374," she grinned triumphantly as she finally found it. Settling the book back down on the ground, she thumbed through the pages quickly. But as it seemed to take forever, her patience grew thin and she began muttering to herself.

"Why does the page always have to the one furthest from the index? For that matter, can't they at least enlarge the text, it's starting to hurt my eyes. And…"

She stopped.

And stared.

And the picture of the black knife stared right back at her.

8 8 8

Amidst the general sounds of disquiet at Fredrick's comment, Buffy scowled. Whether out of some newfound bravery or sheer misplaced idiocy, the young Watcher stood his ground as the tiny Slayer stalked across the training room to him, her eyes blazing.

"I've just about had enough of you," she grabbed the front of his coat and lifted him up into the air. Fredrick sputtered in rage and fear and fury as she hung him, dangling a few centimetres off the ground. "You seem to forget one thing. I am the Vampire Slayer, and I have more power in me than your tweed-stuffed brain can even begin to comprehend. And I know now, from looking into your eyes, just why the Council has come back here today."

She threw him contemptuously away, and then began to scan each Council member keenly. They all shrunk back except for Elspeth, who regarded the Slayer with a small smile. Buffy nodded in satisfaction as if an internal point had been proven, and then stepped back to address them all.

"You guys didn't come all the way from England to determine whether or not I was good enough to be let back in, or even to tell me about Glory. You could have done that over the phone. No. You came to beg me to let you back in. To give your jobs, your lives some semblance of meaning."

Travers cleared his throat. "Actually…"

She threw up a hand. "Let. Me. Finish."

He subsided.

She continued. "You're Watchers. Without a Slayer, you're pretty much just watchin' _Masterpiece Theater_. You can't stop Glory. You can't do anything with the information you have except maybe publish it in the 'Everyone Thinks We're Insane-O's Home Journal.'"

"Well… actually…"

The look she threw his way defied interruption.

"So. Here's how it's gonna work. From what I've seen here today, there have been changes in the Council. I don't know, maybe you decided to actually do some real thinking after you realised you could no longer control me. But with the exception of this idiot," she spared a disgusted look at Fredrick who still lay lopsided on the floor where she'd thrown him, a glare of pure hatred emanating from his eyes, "You now seem reasonable enough to listen."

She held Travers' gaze now with her own. "So. You're gonna tell me everything you know. Then you're gonna go away. You'll contact me if and when you have any further information about Glory. Oh, and Mr. Giles will stay here as my official Watcher, reinstated at full salary..."

Giles coughed. "Retroactive."

"… to be paid retroactively from the month he was fired," Buffy finished smoothly. "Is that clear?"

Travers inclined his head. "The terms… are acceptable."

From behind, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara whooped in joy, and then fell into an embarrassed silence at the Watchers' pained yet still inquiring glances. Spike watched the scene with amusement and pride, but then his eyes sharpened again as Fredrick staggered to his feet.

"Uncle!" he cried in a high-pitched voice. "What are you doing?"

"What I planned to do," Travers said tightly, avoiding his nephew's gaze.

"But…"

Finally, the Head Watcher lost patience and rounded on him, his own eyes blazing. "No. Enough, Fredrick! You have spoken far more than befits your place this trip! We have discussed this. Buffy is a powerful Slayer. We can only achieve the objectives of the Council, keeping the world safe, if we work with her, not against her. And if that requires complying to her requests, as long as they are reasonable, then so be it."

No one except Spike noticed Elspeth smile.

"Really, lad," Travers' voice finally softened. "I know that my younger brother pumped some terrible ideas into your head before he died. But it's time to move on."

"No," Fredrick swallowed, his red face draining pale. "No, this can't be. It isn't right. This shouldn't happen!"

Travers' lips tightened. "It should, and it will. Divided as we stand, we shall all fall. In your father's time, in my father's and grandfather's and great-grandfather's time, we have forgotten the true objective of the Council. To guide and help the Slayer to do her duty. That is now what I shall hold true to, and that is now what will happen. If you have a problem with it, I suggest that you find yourself another career."

As Fredrick opened his mouth and then closed it, lost for words, the elder Watchers Colbert and Cameron looked at each other and nodded in realisation. The change was over. The strange internal shift in the Watcher's Council that had begun when Fredrick and Elspeth had appeared was now complete.

"Well," Buffy said lightly. "Now that we've got that cleared up, tell me about Glory. What kind of demon is she?"

The resolute gaze on Travers' face faded. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked briefly at his well-polished shoes, and then back at her questioning features.

"Well, that's just the problem. Glory isn't a demon. She's a God."

Buffy stepped back. "Oh."

8 8 8

"There."

Dawn didn't even realise she'd spoken out loud until her breath stopped. One fingernail had unconsciously moved to mark the place before her, and she fixed her bleak gaze onto it.

"Shifting green energy," she read aloud. "A portal into all the dimensions in the universe."

And as she stared at the picture besides the text, a slow, horrible realisation washed over her.


	11. Shadows of Light

**Chapter ****11**** Shadows of Light**

**A/N. (****This time, I really do have a reason! I've been juggling two fics for quite a while now, and since I'm going into uni soon, I've realised that continuing that habit just won't work out very well in terms of my continued health and sanity. So I've been concentrating on finishing up the other one, and then I can return to writing this one, full-time and on-time!**

**So yes, here's the next chapter! I do apologise at its delay, but it's finally here. Thank you so very much to both Kim and Katana777. I'm glad you liked the fight scene and the new Council, Kim! I must admit that fight scenes don't appear to come naturally for me, so I was glad that one worked out well. And yes, Joss' bias sometimes did annoy me. And to Katana777, I'm also glad that you like my Buffy portrayal; I think she's such a difficult, complex character to write, and so if you like her, hopefully I'm doing something right! I would also be happy to post this story and the prequel on the website you mentioned when I garner myself some free time. Thanks again for the reviews: D **

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And as always, constructive criticism and reviews are much appreciated. **

8 8 8

Buffy was running.

The tattered coat of the fleeing vampire was a few inches away from her face, but to the demon's bemusement, the Slayer seemed content to just follow him. With extra strength lent by plain and simple fear, the vampire sprinted across the grass, Buffy never losing pace behind him as the vista of one of Sunnydale's many graveyards flew past them.

The vampire darted to the right, suddenly, but before he could even make tracks in that direction, Buffy had leapt even further, hounding him back to the left. The vampire suddenly realized the Slayer seemed to be… almost… herding him somewhere…

Before the realization had time to sink in, the vampire walked straight into a punch and crumpled to the ground. Spike appeared out of the shadows, blowing on his knuckles for effect as his fangs gleamed in the moonlight.

"Good day, innit?" he called out.

The vampire on the ground looked at him in confusion as it struggled to its feet, only to be brought down again as Buffy let loose a flying kick from behind. "You might like the permanent cloudiness," she said, annoyed. "But that brings my job of hunting the photophobic temporarily into the daylight hours, and that never makes for a happy Slayer."

"Excuse me?" the vampire from the ground demanded. "I do beg your pardon, but…"

His sentence was broken as Spike casually backhanded him and flipped the vampire over onto his back. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up with another one, Slayer."

The vampire they were hunting seemed about to fume again, but then Buffy reached over and staked him. The two hunters were left with the dust of their prey flying in the breeze, and a smile of victory on both of their faces.

"Well just because I'm doing all the hard work today, since _someone_ used the excuse of hiding near his crypt just in case the sun came back out," Buffy teased him back. "Which we know is absolute crap since it doesn't look like the clouds are _ever_ going to shift. So I'd like to see how quickly _you_ could have found all these."

"How 'bout we check tonight?" Spike suggested, a grin on his face as he regarded the flushed Slayer, still panting slightly from her exertions.

"Deal's on," Buffy laughed as they began to walk back together through the grass of the cemetery towards the western gate. There was a comfortable silence before Spike began to chuckle. "You know, that last vamp… he reminded me a bit of those tweed-stuffed ponces.

"That's true, actually," Buffy chuckled, before her face sobered. "Speaking of which, can I just say I will be in a world of gladness when they finally get out of Sunnydale. I mean, it's been two days already. Just how much do they need to sort out with Giles over our new arrangements?"

"It's a British gentlemen thing, pet," Spike explained. "That, and I think ol' Ripper is a bit suspicious. I know I am. From what you've told me, it doesn't exactly sound like these Council people of yours are the capitulatin' sort."

"No, they're not," Buffy said coldly. "They're more like the inject-me-with-drugs-to-take-away-my-Slayer-abilities-then-locking-me-up-with-a-vamp-to-test-my-abilities-on-my-18th-birthday sort… Spike?"

She stopped walking, realizing that the vampire was no longer behind her. When she turned, she saw Spike standing stock still about three feet away, a look of horror on his face.

"They did that to you?" he asked, a low dangerous growl creeping into his voice.

"Yeah," Buffy swallowed. "After Giles had been injecting me for a few days, he told me he was taking me to an ice-skating show. Then he dropped me off at an abandoned house, told me about the test, and voila, Helpless!Buffy had to fight an escaped vampire that had also kidnapped my Mum."

She'd been looking at the ground. It was difficult bringing up the memories again. But when she looked up again, she was shocked to see Spike completely rigid, his jaw locked and his eyes blazing with fury as though he was trying to say something but couldn't. Her own jaw dropped slightly in surprise. Spike wordless?

"The soddin' wankers," he hissed finally, bringing up clenched fists. "I'd like to go over to that bloody hotel they're stayin' in right now and rip their throats out. Chip or no chip."

"Spike…" Buffy rested her hand on his shoulder gingerly, amazed at how his muscles corded beneath her fingers. "It was a long time ago."

He turned his furious eyes on hers. "How?" he demanded hoarsely. "How could Giles have betrayed you like that? How could the soddin' Council put you in danger like that? I thought they were on your bloody side!"

"That's debateable," Buffy replied dryly, "But it looks as if as of two days ago, we're on the same side again."

She sighed and dropped her hand away from his shoulder to look at him front-on. "And Giles ended up coming in to help me," she said gently. "If he hadn't I might have died. That's why they fired him. They said I'd passed when I killed the first vamp, but the test had also been for him and he'd failed…"

"He should never have betrayed you like that in the first place," Spike cut in, the anger beginning to fade a little from his voice. "C'mon, I've seen you two. You're like bleedin' father and daughter. And no father should ever do that. Ever."

Buffy's gaze turned away. "It took a while for me to forgive him," she admitted slowly. "But he'll never do it again. I know he won't."

"Yeah," Spike's voice was gruff as he shoved his hands into his pockets and he started walking again. "He bloody well better not."

Buffy had no clue what how to respond to Spike's anger on her behalf, much less the edge of protectiveness that had crept into his voice, and so she trotted along after him, thinking up something to say. A thought hit her, and she smiled wryly. It had been a topic niggling at the back of her head ever since the sparring fight they had had a few days ago, but there hadn't seemed to be an appropriate moment to mention it until now.

"Speaking of the Council, though," she said lightly, "I couldn't help but notice your fighting was a little bit off during our… display."

It worked. Spike threw his head back and laughed at the memory.

"Of course," he said. "You needed to show off how sweet your fightin' was, didn't you? Works best with a partner playin' along."

Buffy shook her head, but couldn't do anything about the glimmer of amusement twinkling in her eyes. "You did everything because of that, didn't you? Giving me easy openings, exaggerating your exhaustion, heck, even never landing a shot on me when you could have…"

"I debated givin' you a light tap on the head to show them you could take it," Spike drawled. "But then I decided it'd probably look better if you just handed my ass to me."

She smiled. "Thanks, Spike. I appreciate it."

He grinned wolfishly. "You owe me, Slayer."

She couldn't resist at that. "Really?" her eyes widened and began trembling with innocence. "But Spike, I could have kicked you around like that even if you _were_ trying."

Spike stopped for a second, and then a truly evil glint entered into his fanged smile. "Oooh, Slayer," he growled. "Gonna get it."

They dodged amongst the gravestones as they chased each other, laughing. It seemed a mirror of five minutes ago, when Buffy had been herding the vampire towards Spike, but now the two players were equally matched. Buffy sprinted harder and flipped up onto the top of a mausoleum, hoping to see the spectacle of Spike crashing into the wall, but the vampire merely mirrored her move and landed like a cat on the opposite side. At that, the Slayer somersaulted off and landed gracefully on the grass before running off again, every so often varying her direction with a selection of quick turns and twists designed to throw him off guard. He matched her effortlessly with every one. By the time they had covered the entire cemetery, weaving in and out through the obstacles, twin smiles decorated their faces. But it didn't end there.

Once Buffy reached the outer graveyard wall that Spike had been pushing her towards, she didn't miss a beat. With a flying leap, she leapt onto the hard surface, jumping horizontally from the left corner to the right to land behind her pursuer. Spike snarled and pushed himself off the wall, to see the Slayer retreating into the distance, her face turned cheekily towards his.

Of course, the problem with that was that for two seconds, Buffy lost track of where she was going. She went sprawling as her toe caught a lone tree root, and Spike was on her in seconds. Flipping her over with a deft flick of his wrists, the vampire straddled her hips, locked her legs underneath his, and pinned her wrists to the ground before she could move.

Suddenly, Buffy couldn't breathe.

Spike's length was pressed against hers, his face inches from her own, and as she watched, the look of playfulness faded from his eyes and was replaced by a frightening intensity as he too realised exactly what position they were in. Slowly, she saw a wicked smile cross his lips, and then his platinum head moved downwards and she felt his unneeded breath tickle her ear.

"So, Slayer…" he purred. "Now that I've got you, just what should I do?"

_Kiss me,_ was the first thought that entered into her hazy mind. There was a second's pause, and then her eyes opened wide in shock. Luckily for her, Spike couldn't see her expression as he moved downwards, his lips almost brushing the gentle curve of her neck.

She twitched convulsively at the feeling as it sent a wave of shudders along her spine. But what scared her more was that the shudders had not been elicited by fear. Rather, they left a strange, almost tingly sensation in their wake that she associated more with… something else…

"Well, Slayer?" he was so close she could feel the vibrations of his voice on her sensitive skin. "Have you got any ideas?"

Mindlessly, she was about to open her mouth and vocalise the first thought that had popped into her head when this had all begun…

And then her cellphone rang.

_Bollocks_, Spike swore internally as he jerked back at the noise and their eyes met. Instantly, he was scrambling off as she reached for her hip pocket. He watched as she flipped the cursed thing open, looked at the name displayed, and frowned.

"Giles?"

"Ah… Buffy. There's been a bit of a… problem."

Spike's ears pricked as he heard the strain in the Watcher's voice, and he edged a little closer.

"What problem?" Buffy asked sharply.

"It seems that Glory came into our shop today and made off with a bloodstone and an amulet."

"That can conjure up a monster!" they heard Anya's voice yelling in the background.

"Quite right," Giles coughed. "That can conjure up a monster."

But Buffy concentrated more on the first part of the sentence. "Glory came into the Magic Box?" she demanded as she stood up. "Are you guys all okay? Did she hurt you?"

"No, actually," the Watcher sounded sheepish. "She just came in… and went out with the… items."

"Right," Buffy bit her lip. "And how'd she make away with the evil mojo?"

If it were possible, Giles' voice suddenly sounded even more sheepish. "Well… I, uh… sold them to her. And then Anya kindly pointed out what I'd done."

"Nice work, Watcher," Spike drawled as he bent his head closer to Buffy's face.

Giles started. "Spike's with you?"

"Of course," Buffy adjusted the phone. "It's so cloudy today, we were hunting out other vamps that might have decided to take advantage of that fact together."

There was a slight pause. "Oh. I see. Well, that may actually prove to our advantage. Two people trying to prevent Glory from raising this monster might be more successful than one, judging on your previous reports."

"What exactly is she raisin' this monster for?" Spike cut in, with a worried glance towards Buffy. "You guys have anythin' specific?"

"It's a Sobekian amulet that she's taken, apparently. Which means she'll be trying to transmogrify a snake."

Buffy and Spike's eyes met.

"Sunnydale Zoo."

8 8 8

Cassandra watched Dawn nervously out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to concentrate on the homework in front of her. It had only been half an hour since Giles had arrived to pick them up from school, and the strangeness of it all was still seeping through at the back of her thoughts. Somehow, this reminded her of something…

But then, she had more important things to concentrate on than why Giles had taken them back to the Magic Box, claiming that both Buffy and Joyce were busy and it was safer that they stay with him and the Scoobies. Dawn was still slightly off from the events of two days ago, and to be honest, Cassandra couldn't blame her. It was a lot to take in, Dawn hadn't even been told she was the Key yet. Silently, Cassandra couldn't help but think that it wouldn't be long before she found out. The research that Dawn had already done showed that. She just wasn't sure whether or when to tell her or not.

"Tell me again," Dawn demanded softly, her eyes checking the surroundings to see if any of the Scoobies were listening. "Why the Council asked you two to be there."

"Oh come on," Daniel dropped his pencil and sighed. "We've been over this at least three times already."

"Well indulge me, seeing as I was excluded from your little meeting," Dawn retorted. "Just one more time."

Daniel sighed. "Well, after the hullabaloo about Glory being a God died down, which mind you, took quite a while, Spike interrupted the Head Watcher guy to ask why he'd specifically gotten us to come along too. So then Travers pulls out this graph from his suitcase, saying that it showed mystical energy levels on the Hellmouth for the last year.

"Then he pointed out these two pretty significant spikes right next to each other and said that had been caused by Daniel and I arriving," Cassandra added.

"And he then went on to examine the whole prophecy business that came with us," Daniel continued, "And basically concluded that even though he had no idea what was going on, we were probably going to be important in something."

The teenager snorted and picked his pencil up again. "Like he was telling us something we didn't already know."

"Are you sure there wasn't anything else?" Dawn asked, her voice intent. "Anything? Something small, or seemingly insignificant, maybe?"

Cassandra and Daniel exchanged glances. And then finally, Cassandra took the plunge.

"Actually," the seeress said quietly, "there was something that we haven't told you yet. But that's because we were trying to figure it out, just to be sure. And… it wasn't quite something he said."

Dawn looked at her eagerly. "What was it, then?"

"It was the graph," Daniel picked up from his friend, his eyes grave. "The two spikes of energy announcing us coming in were pretty big. But then, Travers didn't say anything about this other one that occurred a few weeks later from us. And if ours were big, then this spike was massive."

"We think," Cassandra said slowly, "That it might have been you."

She didn't need to look at Daniel to see that the inner tenseness that had been present in his jaw ever since she'd told him about Dawn being the key had faded. It was finally almost out there, between them. It was finally the right moment to tell Dawn the truth.

And then the snake burst in.


	12. Teamwork

**Chapter****12**** Teamwork**

**A/N. (****I just realised I've forgotten to put a disclaimer up on the last few chapters. Well, that's about to be rectified, because I CLEARLY do not own BtVS; that realm belongs to Joss Whedon, etc. I'm just playing.**

**Extra note: I am so terribly sorry at the amount of time it took for this chapter to go up. It has actually been sitting in my Documents for ages, and for some reason I thought I'd already uploaded it. So really, my sincere apologies... and thanks for waiting so long!  
**

** Heh… and now onto the general Author's note, just a quick one before you guys can delve into the chapter. Uni is just about to start for me, so updates will be less frequent once again, I'm afraid. At the moment, I'm giving myself a 1-2 week deadline; within every chapter posted, between 1-2 weeks there should be another chapter up, and I'm going to try very hard to meet that, but I hope you understand if it doesn't work out quite as well.**

**Anyway, enough of that. Thanks to Kim for her review again; Buffy and Spike's friendship is indeed progressing, and I'm glad you're enjoying it. : ) . **

**And thank you to all of you who are still reading! I hope you enjoy again.**

8 8 8

They had decided to split up. It had been a conscious decision, born of twin mindsets and their logic following the same path, a warrior's path, and it had taken all of two seconds to communicate what the other was thinking. Then, with the tingles that the others' eyes had left on them still running in their body, they had separated like two dual-wielded blades, perfect and forever a partner no matter how far apart.

Because they were both, ultimately, hunting for the same thing.

Spike ran along the main street of Sunnydale, not caring that people stared at him and his black leather coat as he swished past. He was bleeding, and he knew they stared at that too, but it wasn't of too much consequence because the wound on his face wasn't debilitating, and the scent of his own blood on the air sharpened his nose.

He wasn't used to moving around this much in the daylight, filtered to harmlessness as it was by the clouds. His internal body clock was muttering lividly inside that he should be asleep, but adrenaline was overcoming all weariness in his bones as he ran. Still, the smells of the day were strange and they reminded him with each step into fragrances of soap and shopping and crowds of people that this was unnatural.

But as strong and as confusing as the scent of day was, it had nothing on the trail he was following now. Underneath all of smells of faded sunlight on grass and the humidity of the oncoming storm, cold scales and reptilian blood haunted his nose.

The snake-monster-thing was damn fast, he had to give it that. He'd been chasing it for ten minutes now, after he and Buffy had bunkered down outside Sunnydale Zoo and whispered breathless plans while nursing their wounds. Its trail had led him down here, and he wondered how on the hellmouth everyone was acting so normally if a giant cobra had just snaked within their midst five minutes ago. He shook his blonde head as he ran. The stupidity and denial of these people worried him. The Slayer shouldn't have to work her cute butt off to save idiots who were only going to fall back into danger the second their brains stopped working and they decided that a midnight stroll in the cemetery was a _good_ idea.

Spike shook his head again, grunted in pain as his injured knee half-buckled under him from a bad step, and wrenched his mind back to his task. The mall melted out from his side into a stream of shops, and they continued in a pattern further down, past his line of sight, into…

Wait. This road seemed familiar. Where was the snake-thing going?

Spike slowed outside the gates of Sunnydale Junior High, and then stopped, his brow furrowing in confusion. It was a strange path to take through the town... after the school, there really wasn't much beyond. Residential areas faded into road, a power plant, and then the highway. Somehow, he didn't think the snake was looking for some electric juice.

Not for the first time, Spike wished he'd had time to ask the Slayer what that Glory bint had said while they had been fighting and he'd been trying to kill the demon-hobbit and hold down the snake thing simultaneously. Perhaps she'd have given some clue as to why the hell she'd bothered to raise this bloody thing. Sighing, he shrugged, rubbed his nose, and followed the scent…

As it lingered directly in front of the gates of Sunnydale Junior High, and then made an abrupt turn back into the main street behind him.

That's strange… he thought. Why didn't I see it on the way back? And for that matter, why would it change direction so suddenly…?

Realisation hammered a heartbeat in his chest where there was none.

"Dawn," he whispered, and he began to run.

"Dawn," Buffy breathed as she limped down the street. It was like a prayer in her mind, and it kept her going even as the gash that opened up her jeans on her lower thigh and continued down to her calf screamed in protest. Glory had told the snake-thing after it'd flung Spike off its back to find the Key, and the Key was Dawn. So Spike had to follow it while she limped home to Revello where her sister should be and…

She stopped.

What had Giles said about keeping Dawn, Cass, and Daniel safe?

The Slayer's limping walk turned into a run. She almost sprinted back in the direction she came from, leaving droplets of blood lining the street. The Magic Box was blocks away, but she didn't care now that cold air lined her lungs and rasped her breath. The day was chilled, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins made her warm sweater superfluous. She would have taken the time to tear it off and run in the thin shirt underneath, but she had no time.

They rounded the corner together, Vampire and Slayer, he coming from the left, her coming from the right. Their eyes met once in stricken realisation, just as a scream split the air and shattered glass erupted from the Magic Box.

"Dawn!" they cried simultaneously, and they ran together, closer, twin blades reaching their harmony together once more. They surged past concrete and over shattered glass, just in time to catch a glimpse of the snake as it barrelled past them.

The two warriors didn't hesitate. There was only time for a quick glance in the Magic Box, to see Dawn's face pale but safe amidst fallen shelves, the Scoobies all unharmed around her and Cassandra and Daniel fallen but unhurt by her side. And then they changed direction, a quick twist of the ankle and a propelling by the foot, and raced after the snake-thing with Giles' car banging in pursuit.

8 8 8

There was an understandable silence after the demon had left, Buffy, Spike and Giles hot on its trail. The Scoobies' hands twitched away from weapons and spellcasting stances to fall at their sides. Cassandra and Daniel picked themselves up, groaning quietly, and then stared in sadness at their friend still hunched at their feet.

"Why was the snake-thing afraid of Dawnie?" Willow's timid voice broke the air.

There was a beat, and then things pretended to go back to normal. "I don't know," Anya said frankly as her eyes surveyed the damage. "But with Giles, Buffy and Spike all after it, it doesn't have a chance. So maybe we should take this opportunity to make sure the customers_don't_ step on broken glass tomorrow and sue us for injuries."

"Hear, hear," Xander said tiredly, "I'm liking the plan of having something to do…" and then one by one the adults began the clean up. Willow and Tara began to sweep, their dresses brushing against the floor marked by translucent glass. Xander began patching up the hole, his hard-lined hands falling back into something he knew. And Anya attacked the phonebook, feverishly scanning the unfamiliar tome for someone to replace the window.

Behind the fallen bookcase, Daniel and Cassandra shared a look and dragged the still-stunned Dawn into the training room, pleading shock and the need for a glass of water. Their excuse wasn't even questioned, and they collapsed amongst the landing mats, frightened bodies seeking out security.

They lay there for a while, gathering strength and warmth and wits once more, until Daniel pushed himself up onto her elbow and tugged at Dawn's shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

"No," Dawn's hands curled into fists under her stomach. "No, I'm not all right."

Cassandra pulled herself to a sitting position, crossing her legs and using her new-found elevation to stare worriedly down at her friend. "It's… it's got to be hard…

"Hard?!" Dawn spat out, suddenly animating and leaping to her feet. "You think it's _hard_? Three days ago, hard was figuring out maths! Now, it's…"

Like a wave, she subsided, and then rose again like a tsunami.

"Hard? It's more than hard, it's impossible! I can't deal with this, I just can't deal with this! All the… riddles and the weirdness and my sister and you two aren't helping! I don't even know what I am anymore!" the brown-haired Summers' voice reached a feverish pitch, and Daniel winced, wondering how on earth the Scoobies outside couldn't hear them. "I tried to find out, but it's so damn confusing! They talk about memories and green energy and not being real, but how do I know?! It doesn't make sense, I don't know, I don't know who or what I am, and I…"

Her voice faded suddenly, as a soft yet iron grip closed over her wrist and her dark-eyed friend pulled her forwards to face her.

"Dawn," Cassandra whispered. "You're the Key."

8 8 8

"She's the Key."

Giles stared. His Slayer looked a little hollow; the normally burnished brightness of her cheeks was faded and her arms were wrapped around herself to ward off the wind. Her chest rose and fell deeply, but other than that and her ruined sweater that had caught in the serpent's fangs, there was no other sign that she'd just sprinted over a mile and killed a demon with her bare hands.

Well, there had been Spike. The Watcher spared a glance in the vampire's direction as he knelt over the demon, and then turned back.

"The Key?" he asked in a whisper, putting his hand on her shoulder to reassure himself she was still there. "Dawn is the Key, the one that Glory is looking for?"

"Yeah," Spike said abruptly, striding down the grassy hill from where he'd been examining the corpse of the snake-demon-thing. "We found out straight from the mouth of a monk Glory had been torturin'. Seems the Key was originally pure green energy, used for openin' dimensions and the like… but then these monks 'made it flesh' and sent it to us. Complete with fake memories and the like."

"And you didn't think to tell me this sooner?" Giles queried in disbelief. "Your last meeting with Glory was three days ago."

"You were busy with the Council of Wankers," Spike's mouth twisted around the word, and then a harsh laugh erupted from his throat. "Oh, and there we can draw a soddin' parallel between them and these 'brethren'."

He spat on the ground. "Pillocks. They have no idea what they were messin' with…"

Giles stiffened, first at Spike's hijacking of Buffy's part, second at his response. As he pushed his glasses further up his forehead with a rough finger, he missed the wordlessly grateful look that Buffy had directed towards the platinum-blonde vampire at his intervention.

"Are you suggesting that you'd rather they hadn't sent Dawn to us?"

Spike didn't flinch under the Ripper-esque glare. Borrowed blood still tingled in his veins from the kill, from the effort in holding the snake-thing down as Buffy had vented her fear and rage. "No, I'm suggestin' that they were wankers to mess with a teenage girl's mind. If they created Dawn, they should have… given her some self-awareness of what she was at least. As it is, that girl's walkin' into a bombshell sometime ahead when she finds out. And that's just not bloody fair."

Giles' mouth opened, shut, and then his brow furrowed. "That… is a point I had not thought about," the Watcher conceded. "Something of this…delicate nature will be very difficult for Dawn to take."

"Oh, you think?" sarcasm dripped from the vampire's voice. "Come on, Rupes. Her entire life, up until the last few months, has been a lie. 'S been fabricated by a bunch of mindless idiots. _I_ wouldn't take to that kind of knowledge kindly, let alone a girl who hasn't got her grip on life yet."

"Well what do you suggest we do then?" Giles demanded. "Since you're such an expert on adolescent psychology, Spike, perhaps you should come up with a solution to this mess instead of blathering on about how bad it is!"

"I have a solution."

The two Englishmen turned towards Buffy, her eyes cold and her jaw set straight even as she shivered lightly, the tatters of her ruined sweater curling at her elbows.

"We don't tell her."

Spike's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you sure, Slayer? Things could get messy if she finds out by herself."

Buffy's face shadowed with pain. "I know. But for now… we can't tell her. Not until we find out more about what… she is, and what exactly Glory wants to do."

Giles wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the fact that Spike opened his mouth, shut it, and then nodded curtly in agreement, or by the fact that when the vampire passed the Slayer, he draped his prized leather coat over her… and she did not protest.

8 8 8

"Am I evil?"

Dawn's eyes were still wide and glassy, but now her shaking had calmed and she sat on the training mats, her arms hooked around her knees. Muted light shifted through the window, covered by the clouds, and cast everything in an oddly greyish light. Cassandra considered briefly against letting it stand, and then slowly turned her weight until her arm was settled around her friend's shoulder.

"No, you're not," she said gently, and with as much conviction as she could muster. "You're… energy. I… don't know much, but from what I understand, you're this special energy that can control the dimensions, opening and closing them. It runs in your blood."

A tiny, frail smile crossed Dawn's cold cheeks. "I have superpowers, then?"

Daniel chuckled quietly as he scooted closer to them, a strange pain descending across his eyes as he watched. These two girls, both shorter than him by at least half a head… they seemed so small huddled together, and he wished with all of his heart he could do something. But they were the Key, and a Seeress. He was just… Daniel.

"You've always had superpowers, Dawn," he teased gently. "No-one, but no-one, has the capacity to annoy me as much as you do."

It elicited a laugh, and before he could do anything, he was pulled unceremoniously into the impromptu hug. He yelped in feigned protest as they giggled, but then relaxed and embraced them back. His friends. Damn if the world wasn't getting strange, or stranger, or far stranger since the days the world had existed minus demons and magic. But amidst rituals and evil knives and his best friends evolving beyond his reach… they were still his friends, and he'd do anything for them.

When the laughter quieted down, though, they shifted positions once again into a triangle, so each could see the others' faces. "So, if I've got this energy in my blood, how do I control the dimensions?"

Cassandra shook her head ruefully. "Sorry, I don't think I can help you there. But maybe, since you've been the Key for millions of… heck, I don't actually know how long you've existed… well, perhaps if you investigate it yourself, you might figure it out."

She offered her friend a hopeful smile, but then it suddenly turned downwards in worry at the expression on Dawn's face. "What? What is it?"

"Something I 'investigated'," she said flatly. "With the books you guys sto… 'borrowed' from Giles."

Cassandra and Daniel shared a single, awful look.

"The knife?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Dawn turned away and gazed out into the cloud-covered sky. "I'm mentioned."

Cassandra pressed a single hand to her mouth, to block out the words threatening to spiral forth. So it wasn't just Glory they had to worry about now, with Dawn. There was another player on the board, and they didn't even know who it was.

She shared a look with Daniel shared a look again, and this time horror ripped into their gazes.


	13. All that Glitters

**Chapter ****13**** All that Glitters**

**A/N. (****I just realised I've forgotten to put a disclaimer up on the last few chapters. Well, that's about to be rectified, because I CLEARLY do not own BtVS; that realm belongs to Joss Whedon, etc. I'm just playing.**

**Well, it's come to this.**

**I'm sure that some of you might have seen this coming, and for you who have, I'm terribly sorry that I've been so predictable. It's been two weeks, and I've discovered that Uni was far more work than it's made out to be… and I don't think my undertaking a double-degree is helping any.**

**Thus, it pains me to take this action, but I've decided it's for the best. I can no longer give this fic the time it deserves, so this is the last chapter I will post in a while. I do not mean to abandon this completely; I owe the fanfiction world far too much to let this slide for eternity. But it may be a few years before I pick this up again. **

**Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me so far, and especially Kim, whose words and reviews have always left me with a smile. Thank you to everyone else who has commented and hey, just read this fic and the one before it. It means a lot to me that you've enjoyed my work.**

**So here's to the last chapter for a while. I hope you forgive me. But I won't let this one lie sleeping forever.**

8 8 8

They decided to visit the graveyard of all those nights ago in the day time. It would have been a rather painful suicide to come at night without Buffy or Spike, and the point was, they had decided (or rather Dawn had decided, vociferously, with her high-pitched voice reminding them that since she was the Key, she should have final say in the investigation) to keep it amongst just themselves. For the time being. Until they unearthed something significant enough to warrant the Scoobies' attention.

And so it was that Cassandra, Daniel, and Dawn found themselves picking their way through gravestones and grass, hands clasped tightly around backpacks filled with food and drink and a rug. Their excuse for venturing out on this bright, sunny Saturday morning had been a picnic in the park, but Cassandra for one seriously doubted if she'd leave this place with any sort of appetite. And if they were successful in finding a trace of what had happened, well… she thought a lack of appetite might segue into the contents of breakfast revisiting the world.

"Are you sure it's around here somewhere?" Dawn demanded, her sharp gaze scanning their surroundings.

Daniel rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time. "No, we're not sure. Why don't _you_ try remembering the exact place where you saw a scary ritual months ago and in the dark. Besides, as far as I can see, graves all look the same to me."

Dawn flashed him a highly unsympathetic look. "Maus-o-leum," she enunciated slowly, pointing to one rising up ahead from the grass. "Tomb-stone," she spoke as if to a child, pointing at a stone block rising from their feet. "It's not that difficult, idiot."

"Easy enough for you to say," Daniel retorted, his pride stung. "What differentiates that maus-o-leum from that maus-o-leum?" He gestured at the one she'd pointed to and another to their left. "Nothing! Until you go up real close and read the names… and trust me when I say we didn't exactly have time to do that while we were running for our lives."

Dawn swung around, hands on her hips. "Fine then," she said sweetly. "If your memory really is so faulty, I guess we'll just spend the morning combing every inch of this graveyard for anything we can find."

Cassandra groaned from behind them and slapped her forehead. "It's going to be a long, boring morning searching for something we don't even…"

"Looking for something?"

The three teenagers spun around in surprise at the unfamiliar voice, to see a little old man smiling harmlessly at them. He was about their height, with soft white hair framing sparkling eyes, and benevolence seemed to cloak him like a shroud.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but I couldn't help overhear some of your conversation. I happen to know this cemetery quite well… my dear old da lies just around the corner from here." He paused, that gentle smile never leaving his lips as he cocked his head a little to the side. "Perhaps you could use some help?"

Daniel stared at him as if he were their saviour. Dawn's serene nod of acceptance masked the flare of triumph in her eyes. And Cassandra…

Cassandra's insides froze solid and descended to the pit of her stomach as she tried to school her face.

_Doc._

8 8 8

They came during the day this time, and Anya closed up the shop and packed away the customers muttering under her breath. Xander had told her Englishmen appeared to have an unhealthily close relationship with manners. Clearly, there was an affair going on.

"So you're going now?" _Finally,_ Giles added silently in his mind as he regarded the Head Watcher.

"Indeed," Quentin inclined his head and gestured towards the rest of the Watchers standing behind him. "We only wished to pay our respects before we left to the airport."

Buffy wrinkled her nose slightly. "Respects paid," she muttered, but then her eyes widened slightly in amusement. "Though I see Mr. Sulky isn't here," she noted perkily.

The standing Watchers shifted uneasily, and Quentin coughed. "Yes, well… Fredrick decided to be absent on our last visit. I doubt he anything constructive to add, at any rate."

"Hear, hear," Elspeth murmured behind her father's shoulder, before raising her voice. "However, the rest of us wish to impart our farewells, knowing that we leave with a closer and healthier relationship with Buffy than any Council has ever had with their Slayer. It is a quietly historical moment, to say the least."

The gentle irony in her voice even prompted Buffy's wary countenance to turn to a smile. "Historical, yeah."

"And rest assured that we will continue to build upon this if possible. We are all fighting the same enemy here, and if there is a need, Father and I have agreed that I myself may even be posted as a permanent Council representative in Sunnydale."

It was a mark of how far they had come that Buffy didn't immediately scream at the idea, and Giles had to regard both his Slayer and Elspeth with reaffirmed respect. The latter smiled agreeably at the former, no hint of guile in her face, and Giles felt a strange sense of relief. If there had to be a Council representative, then at least it would be her. He found that he didn't mind that idea so much.

In the last few days, they had gotten to know each other a little more during negotiations. Both Elspeth and Fredrick had spent most of their early lives in adjacent boarding schools, which explained their absence at the Council of Watchers during Giles' own formative years, but they had been introduced to the real world of Slayers and demons and the Watcher heritage that lay in their bloodline far later than he. It seemed strange, Giles mused bitterly, that Quentin had judged him for being too emotionally intertwined with Buffy when he had had a daughter himself. Then again, he had never picked the Quentin of old as a father.

In truth, something struck him as strange whenever he turned Elspeth's tale over in his head, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that whatever her background, she was a pleasure to be with. He smiled at her now, enjoying the wide one she flashed in return. With her easy diplomacy and sharply humorous jibes, negotiations with the Watcher's Council over their new partnership had gone over far smoother than he'd imagined, and he was grateful.

"That is good to hear," Giles said at last. "We will keep in contact then."

"Excellent," Travers picked up his coat and the Watchers turned to leave.

Of course, it was their luck that Spike chose at that moment to walk in from the basement without knocking, a twist of scales still around his fist.

"Well, I've finished off the scalin'," he announced loudly "And I have to say, that was one bloody good…"

He paused, looked around at the assembled Watchers, and shook his head ruefully. "Not my day. I'll just be goin' now…"

"Wait," Travers voice called him back, and the vampire obeyed with obvious reluctance. "Is that a… Sobekian cobra skin I see?"

"None other, Head wanker," Spike muttered the last two words under his breath, guarding it protectively with his stance. It seemed like yesterday that he'd had that conversation with the Slayer, one that had filled him with a strange sense of usefulness that went beyond helping her patrol.

Buffy had picked at the ruins of her sweater and the snake-demon's secretions. "This stuff is valuable?" she had asked disbelievingly, and before Giles could continue, Spike had answered for him.

"Extremely," Spike's lips had curled into a smile. "You're wearin' about a grand's worth on your pretty shoulder right now, Slayer."

Buffy's mouth had formed a shocked 'o' as she'd stared at the opalescent liquid on her skin, completely harmless against the unbroken flesh. "It doesn't look like anything worth that much."

He'd shrugged. "Some things aren't what they seem, Slayer," and he'd watched the look of hope cross over her face at the possibilities.

Spike was torn unwelcomely back from the memory by Travers' voice.

"A genuine Sobekian cobra skin… incredible. Might I ask how you acquired it?"

From the counter, Buffy shrugged. "Glory raised the Sober thing, we killed it," Buffy said airily. "No biggie."

Shadows darkened across the Head Watcher's face at the name. "On the contrary, Miss. Summers, every action that Glory makes is important."

Buffy exhaled in irritation. "I'm actually quite aware of that. But why are you so interested in the skin itself?"

He brushed some imaginary dust off his suit as he answered, and Buffy was struck by the stupidity again that dictated he wore more than a shirt and pants under the Sunnydale sun, even if he was heading back to England in an hour. "Sobekian demons are very rare, Miss. Summers… so it is out of interest that I question."

A flash of something crossed his face, and then the Head Watcher paused, his next words almost apologetic. "Not to mention, this kind of thing is worth a lot of money. As well as its venom. I don't suppose…"

Spike stiffened.

"Well, we're not givin' it to you, if that's what you think," he said sternly. "You're right. Stuff like this is worth a lot of money, and it's not like the Slayer has time to hold down a respectable nine to five between savin' the world. And even if she did, it's hard to stay sittin' comfy when you could be losin' your job the next time the apocalypse knocks within office hours."

His voice roiled over the assembled Watchers and they shifted as it hit them. Elspeth decided privately that it was a very good thing Fredrick hadn't attended, otherwise there most certainly would not have been the sudden silence, spinning out like blown glass across the gathered people. From behind the counter, even Anya stopped her banging and muttering as she regarded the strange expressions on the Head Watcher's face with curiosity. His eyes had widened, and the action of cogs turning in his head was almost visible across the tiredly official etchings of his face. Across from the room where he leaned against a bookcase, Giles' eyes were torn between Travers' and Spike's. And as for the vampire himself, he shifted uncomfortably under both the Travers' and the Slayers suddenly piercing glances, wondering what on the Hellmouth he'd gotten himself into now. From the hot burn he was beginning to develop on his back, he was going to get questions from her later, and he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to answer.

Finally, the silence was broken. "I never thought of that," there seemed to be real regret in Travers' voice. "Dear Lord, I never thought of that."

"Well, now that you have, what do you propose to do with it?" Nigel checked his watch as he asked.

Travers' thoughtful eyes flicked from the vampire with the Sobekian scales wrapped around his fist, to the tiny golden-blonde Slayer in front of him. "Perhaps a monthly stipend?" he suggested finally. "One hundred pounds a month, maybe? That amount could serve as a start."

"Oh come on, she's worth more than that!" Spike interjected again, and everyone stared at him in surprise. He glared back, annoyed at all of the unwanted attention and the uncomfortableness that stirred along in his gut as he received it. It was the shock in Buffy's face that got him most, and so he turned back to the Englishmen to hide it, reeling straight back into the soul-searching gaze of the Head Watcher. At the renewed sight of it, he set his jaw. "She's worth more than that," he repeated stubbornly, gesturing jerkily in the air. "For God's sake, she saves the soddin' world!"

Now the Travers was making him jumpy, and he wasn't sure if he regretted speaking up. Luckily, however, attention shifted when Nigel cleared his throat impatiently. "Uh… Mr. Travers… we'll miss our plane if we don't leave soon."

The Head Watcher nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Spike's sparking blue ones, and gestured for them to go. The group of Watchers walked stiffly out of the shop, all but Elspeth leaving behind a scent of tweed, and at last Travers was the only one left who didn't belong.

"As I said, Mr. Bloody… it is a start," the Head Watcher surveyed him keenly, before nodding his head and leaving with the rest.

8 8 8

Daniel, Cassandra decided, was terrible at lying.

"It's… a family heirloom!" Daniel gabbled, and from behind him and out of view, Cassandra barely refrained from cradling her head in her palms.

"Really?" Doc asked mildly, taking sprightly steps on the dewy grass. "It's a strange family heirloom when you don't know what it looks like."

Dawn rolled her eyes and pushed smoothly ahead, her long limbs matching Doc's strides effortlessly. "It's not our direct family's per se, it's our friend's," she explained smoothly. "She rung us up this morning in an absolute mess because she realised she'd lost it during her Aunt's funeral that we all attended last week, but she couldn't come look for it herself because she's packing."

Well, Cassandra thought wryly, if Daniel was terrible at lying, Dawn was frighteningly good at it. The younger Summers oozed innocence and a guileless charm, and it was enough to quieten Cassandra's heart a little as it thrummed beneath her ribs. She hadn't gotten over it yet. Doc. Doc. _Doc._ Was walking. Next to them. Less than a feet away.

The images of his benevolent face presiding over Dawn's cries of pain was definitely not helping.

Her panicked heartbeat returned, and she closed her eyes and winced internally. Nope. It wasn't helping at all.

"You're quiet, little one."

She jerked out of her thoughts at his voice, staring at him with wide eyes. He was still walking, but his pace had slowed, and a strange something flickered into his gaze. For a second, she swore his pupils had flashed almost reptilian as he surveyed her. "Cat got your… tongue?"

Her mouth was suddenly dry. "No, I…"

"Don't mind Cassandra," Daniel said with an easy laugh. "She gets a little shy sometimes."

Blood flushed back into her muscles. "I do not!" she said indignantly.

"You do so," he shot back, a teasing smile on his face, and for some reason the familiarity of the gesture was enough to tear her thoughts away from the fact that Doc was scarily, frighteningly close, and still regarding her eerily.

"Do not," she countered, deciding that if she couldn't cope, at least she could ignore.

"Do so."

"Do not."

"Do so..." he raised his eyebrow. "Isn't this a little infantile?"

She shrugged with a smile. "If I'm not mistaken, I heard you arguing in two syllables right along with..."

It was a gentle clearing of the throat, almost a cough, that interrupted their friendly bickering. Cassandra and Daniel spun around to realise that Dawn and Doc were now about three feet behind them, the latter kneeling down with a natural grace and examining something in the grass.

"Children?" he said mildly, closing his fingers around something on the ground and then holding it out in his palm for them to see. "I do think I've found something."

It was a gemstone, completely black as if it were made out of shadow. A single, blazing, golden wing arced across it, standing out lividly from the darkness. They looked at it, a gaze mixed with shock, awe, and apprehension, and the silence settled uncomfortably around their shoulders with the discovery.

"A strange family heirloom," Doc commented lightly.

"It's a strange family," Daniel hastily tried to laugh it off, but his voice died away as Dawn took it in trembling fingers. There was a questioning recognition in the girl's studying gaze, and taking her friend's cue, Cassandra tried to put her finger on its familiarity.

And came up with the picture of a single image seared into her neck.

There was something strange going on. Cassandra tore her eyes from the mesmerising glints of sunlight on the gemstone and to their surroundings. They had come by here before, she realised numbly. It was one of the first places they'd looked that morning, when their enthusiasm had been near its peak and they'd examined every blade of grass before concluding that nothing was there.

So how…?

Cassandra looked at Doc's kind, bland, innocent face, and felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach.

8 8 8

"Why'd you do that?"

The cellar was dark and he blinked as his vision adjusted, but there was no place to hide with bright emerald eyes seeking him out in the blackness. He hung his head and listened to her heartbeat throb under his skin. They were close, and he wondered if she realised it. Wondered if she cared.

"You know the answer to that."

They were close, and she wondered if he realised it. They were close enough for her to have almost felt the vibrations from his chest as his voice rumbled through and made itself known.

Yes, she knew the answer to that.

Her mind was dizzy. There were times when she couldn't comprehend, couldn't understand her life. Heck, that was an understatement.

Yes. She knew the answer, but what should she do about it?

In the darkness, he stopped breathing. Not that he needed it or anything, it was merely that her scent was breaking in waves around him and with the shadows around them, his senses were heightened. There was sunlight and vanilla in her smell, and he was afraid if he drank too much of it in he'd become drunk. Intoxicated. With her. And he couldn't do that, not when he needed his wits about him, not when she was just standing there with such an odd look on her face.

Why hadn't she said anything yet? Or done anything? Or hit him?

The Slayer took a shaky step forwards and the vampire blinked as she hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, loosely.

"Thanks," she said, her voice muffled into his jacket.

Wonderingly, his hands remembered their minds, and they falteringly fell upon golden hair and a smooth back.

"You're welcome," he said thickly, and it was enough.


End file.
